


Father and Son

by Leonie_Catrina



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Runaway, Big Brother Tony, Child Abuse, Daddy Tony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Italian Tony, Mechanic Tony Stark, Mechanics, Multi, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, POV Tony Stark, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitute Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Tony Stark, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Young Tony Stark, if that wasn't clear, money issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonie_Catrina/pseuds/Leonie_Catrina
Summary: “Shhhhhh. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay. ““How? How is it ever gonna be okay?”And that’s how it started.Me trying to comfort my little sister after getting raped.Runaway-AUI had to protect her so i took my siblings and i ran. Because there was no other way.Now i had to figure out how to parent 3 children, how to heal my little sister and how to find a place in the world for Anthony Russo instead of Tony Stark.Please heed the warnings!





	1. A new Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there,  
> I am obsessed with Tony Stark and I can't stop imagining him as a great parent, so i did just that in some way.  
> This is not totally dark, but there are some sore topics, so please tread carefully.  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> And if you do, please let me know!

“Shhhhhh. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay. “

“How? How is it ever gonna be okay?”

And that’s how it started.  
Me trying to comfort my little sister after getting raped.

 

 

 

“That degree is fake. You know it, I know it, why do we still pretend?” It was kinda fake. It had the wrong name on it, but I still had three degrees.

“No, please, listen! It’s not fake, look one of my professors told me, it was okay to call him for reference. His number is on the card. Please, you don’t believe me? Okay. But you call him, he will tell you. I can do a one-day work trial if you’d like. Please, I need this job. I really do.”  
  
I had 60 grand to my name. It was all I could take when we fled our home and what was left after buying several fake identities. But that money was needed. It was for when Luca, Marcy and Addie went to college. Sophia already had a full ride to Julliard, but there was no telling yet if my younger siblings would have to rely on that money. So that meant I had to support us until I inherited Stark Industries. That could still be years from now. I. Needed. This. Job.

“You know, if you’re that good, how come you don’t already have a job?”  
  
“Because literally nobody wants to give me a chance. Please, I’m begging you. Only a day to prove my worth.”  
  
“Sorry, buddy. I can’t afford child protective services after me. Good luck, boy. Now leave.”   
The asshole turned and left without further notice. I felt like crying. This was the 19th decline. I got the feeling there simply were no car repair shops left in New York. I walked down the street wondering how the hell, I was going to pay rent the day after tomorrow. I was $400 short and I couldn’t afford to lose the apartment. It was hell getting one in the first place. I knew Mrs. Parker was a god-send but even she could grant grace only so long. She needed the money, I needed the money. Hell I was getting the money. The apartment cost a grand a month. Because May was an angel on earth she exempted running costs. I had $700 total, earned through gambling (counting cards), I couldn’t go tonight and I didn't earn that much one night anyway, I had to be careful. I needed $50 backup, who was I kidding I needed $700 backup – yeah like that was happening. $50 Back up, $50 for food the next four days, I had to buy Luca a new bag, because he “lost” the last one because he was bullied and won’t tell me yet. We already barely scraped by as it was. I was $500 behind on rent. Ergo I needed to make $930 in two days.   
I looked at my watch. Eh, one day and two nights. I needed to get back home and make dinner. I knew what I would do. It was something I was used to by know. It was not okay. It would not gonna be okay soon. Still, I told her that. Because it was the only thing I could tell her. Because it was the only thing I had to believe to somehow make it work. So: It was gonna be okay. It was already getting dark, so I should hurry with getting ready for work.

 

The morning after was always worst. It hurt a little, but mostly I was drowning in self-pity. I wasn’t ashamed anymore. Scared to be caught, but not ashamed of the sultry looks I had to give. The way my jeans had to hang way lower than normal, showing off the missing underwear. I was attracted to both women and men, I could be picky with who I fucked, I could be doing this for fun, instead I did it for money. There was nothing wrong with that, nothing degrading. At least that was what I told myself. In reality I knew it was fucked up. I knew it ruined my sex life forever. I knew nobody really wanted something as used as I was. I knew I could catch something even with precautions. I made 340$ last night. 7 hours of work and here I was 2 hours later, waking up to prepare breakfast and get the kids ready for school and kindergarten. Sophia was grumpy as usual, she took the black tea I made her every morning with a slight disgusted twist of her lips, before she had liked it on occasion – now? Not so much, but it was caffeine so it was a lot better then water. She went to wake Luca and Marcy on her way, back to her room to change and get ready, while I prepared straw cups of milk for Marcy and OJ for Luca as well as some pb&j’s. When they sat down at the table, rubbing their eyes I smiled. They didn’t seem phased with the sudden changes to their life too much. They went at it the same way they went at everything, together. They were real close. I heard it was not always like that with twins. I was glad they had each other to hold on to.   
  
No matter what changed, they would always be together. At least until they hit preteens and would probably fight constantly. Once I had them fed and clothed, Sophia reappeared, taking their bags out of my hands. She would drop them off on her way to school. I pressed each of them a kiss to their forehead. Even though Sophia called me a ‘sap’ every time. I knew she liked it, sometimes just needed the reassurance that physical contact could give. And to be honest, I was the one needing that reassurance, but so what, she still bore with me. I would drop off Adonia with Mrs. Cass at 9, so there was almost an hour to waste on doing the dishes or the laundry or maybe write another – wait no, there was no other job I could apply to. Maybe I should look into working as a cashier. Low payment was still payment. All I wanted was to go to bed again – two hours of sleep after being fucked the rest of the night without even coffee to compensate was not my favorite state of mind – I opted for laundry instead. Our landlady Mrs. Parker let us use her old washing machine in exchange for occasionally looking after her nephew Peter or helping him with homework really.   
By the time I was supposed to get Adonia ready I was already exhausted. And there was this job interview that was kinda my last chance at a job as a mechanic. It was endowed with $1500. That was rent and food for a month. And the insert sounded nice, like the people there were actually decent human beings. I had put on light blue worn jeans, a plain white T, and a slightly casual black blazer. I was hoping for a chance to prove my worth, so I needed clothes to work in. Surely my maybe-soon-boss would get that. After leaving Adonia and Mrs. Cass off, I got on my bike deep in thought. I was pushing and throwing numbers in my head, calculating the monthly costs and how long I could go without food before losing money during hooking-nights because my body was no longer desirable and if that happened before or after I had too low blood sugar to be able to do a cage fight and at least sometimes win.

$1000 rent  
$500 food  
$100 baby supplies  
$150 day-care for Adonia  
2x $75 kindergarten fee  
$80 school fee  
$100 clothes  
2x $5 pocket money for Luca and Marcy  
1x $30 pocket money for Sophia

$2,120 a month. How was I supposed to make that much money? I could count only once in a month in four different casinos. That made about $400. I couldn’t bring myself to whore myself out more than once a week. The regular profit of that was $200. $920 to go. There were the docks. Not exactly fancy. Got $100 a night. But it was money either way. Considering I was black and blue after every fucking fight, I had to push whore-nights closer together. Two times a week. The first two weeks a month. Fighting was exhausting and scared the fuck out of Marcy. 3 times max. The high-class tutoring, I did while simultaneously watching my own siblings brought $30 a week. So I was $500 short on money each fucking month. I never knew life was so expensive. Guess I just never had to care about that. I was still arranging numbers in my head when the car hit me and pulled me right off my bike. I groaned when I hit the asphalt. There was a car door slamming and a second later there were hands cradling my head. One of them really cool.  
  
“Are you okay? Can you hear me? Oh god I’m so sorry, please talk to me.” There was bright light and an angel leaning over me. Maybe I had died after all. There was a deep laugh.  
  
“No, not dead. Tough that comment makes me question your mental state.”  
  
“I’m a headcase.” I said, staring into steel blue eyes with a shimmer of grey. He held his hand in front of me.  
  
“Well, I’m James.” I took it and he pulled me upright. He was handsome, as in holy fucking shit he’s hot. A young man, early twenties, brown hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail, defined chin and red plush lips. James. Why did that sound so important?  
  
“I’m still a headcase, but you may call me Anthony if you’d like to.” I grinned.  
  
“Wait. Anthony? As in Anthony Russo, aka the only applicant to that damn newspaper insert?” Well that explained why James sounded so familiar.  
  
“I’m the only applicant?” I asked. James groaned.  
  
“First I ran someone over. Then I ran over a stupidly hot guy. And now I’ve run over a possible employee.” Stupidly hot, yeah? But that was not what I said.  
  
“You’re not a good driver, are you?” He laughed again. God, that laugh was sexy.  
  
“You seem perfectly chipper.”  
  
“Well, I am. That would have been a very awkward job interview if I wasn’t. I would be in pain and you would feel guilty and probably give me the job out of pity. Now that I think about it, would you believe me that I’m terribly concussed?” I smirked. I didn’t mean it. But there was a little truth somewhere in there. This job was my last hope. The last option. The only alternative was full-time prostitution. And gosh I didn’t want that. I would for them. But I needed to avoid that.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” James said. I could tell. Relief was clear as day written all over his face.  
  
“I am, don’t worry. That was barely walking pace anyway.” He cleared his throat.  
  
“so, you wanna come in? I don’t want to move that damned car any time soon anyway.” He pulled up my pathetic bicycle and led the way. Wheeling the old thing beside him. Such a gentleman. He showed me to a very comfy office. It looked more like a break room. There were three couches, a desk and a glass table in the middle.  
  
“Please, have a seat. You want something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?” Coffee sounded amazing.  
  
“Coffee would be great actually.” I said shyly. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t even know how long it had been since my last cup of coffee. He smiled at me.  
  
“Got it. You know I called that professor of yours and checked. It really is hard to believe you are barely 18 and have a degree already, he told me you didn’t have one.” What?!  
  
“Told me you had three and were selling yourself under worth. I didn’t get to asking what your degrees were actually. Your professor just told me you graduated summa cum laude and had to run to catch his next lecture.”   
Yeah, Prof. Klinehard. The only one I trusted to maybe not give me away. I begged him not to tell the police or my dad or hell the media even where I was. He was the only one that would have and eventually agreed to warrant for me. The only one that frowned every time I went to class all bruised up, the only one that cared.  
  
“I got Masters in Mechanical Engineering and Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, a bachelor degree for Nuclear Science, I never got around to finishing my Aeronautics degree.” He whistled impressed.  
  
“You realize after that answer I should deny you, right? You are way too qualified for repairing cars, but I do need an extra help in the shop.” Please, please, please. Please, let this work out.  
  
“So am I really the only applicant?” he laughed again. Damn, he should do that more often.  
  
“I shouldn’t have told you that. Something tells me you will want a pay raise already, simply because I need you. But I’ll tell you right away, I can’t pay more than $1500 for part-time.” Something told me I needed him more.  
  
“Actually, that is the greatest advantage of hiring me. I’d be fine with $1000 a month.” It was a huge argument for everyone up until now. They didn’t hire me anyway, but most of them considered after I told them. Instead, James head snapped up and his brow pinched. He put down a mug in front of me with dark rich coffee. He watched me suspiciously.  
  
“What are you doing this for?” I looked at him confused.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Why do you want this job, if you don’t care about the money. Is it out of boredom, or is it an act of rebellion? You're already ridiculously young.” I started to object, but he raised his hand and cut me off.  
  
“I don’t care about that. I really do need a help in the shop and you have your degree. Degrees. The first hour of work will show if you know what you’re doing. But if you don’t take this seriously and I can’t count on you, then I can’t work with you.” I swallowed.  
  
“I do need the money. Honestly this job is the last hope I got. I really do need the money. I’m desperate, I’ll take whatever you are willing to give. I do take this seriously. Please believe me.”  
  
“Why do you need money this bad? So bad you’re willing to work for a third of what your work is worth?” He asked. And I didn’t know what to answer. Nobody before had asked.  
“I don’t really know how to answer that.”  
  
“The truth is always a good start.” James was calm, didn’t seem one bit judgmental. Yet….  
  
“I… I really can’t tell you.”  
  
“Then I can’t hire you. Say I believe you, which I do, you are serious about this. Clint, Natasha and I are the only ones here, we’re like family. We need someone we can trust. I won’t judge you for mistakes, god knows I made a lot of them. But I can’t trust you, if you won’t tell me about them. I don’t need the trouble. I had enough of that when I was deployed.” I knew he was sincere, but god this was hard. Still, I needed this job.  
  
“Trust me, Anthony and I will be able to trust you.” I couldn’t stand his beautiful eyes piercing into mine and dropped my face into my hands.  
  
“I’ve got children.” I breathed out. Fuck, I hoped he wouldn’t call CPS on me. I felt James freeze.  
  
“Come again?”  
  
“I’ve got children.” I said. Louder this time. “I need this money. I-I don’t know how to pay rent tomorrow. I don’t know how to pay for day care and kindergarten the next month. Hell, I don’t know where to take the money for food. I’m fucked James. I’m entirely fucked and I. Need. This. Job.” It broke out of me, all at once.   
I somehow couldn’t even stop myself. I panted and waited. There was a long span of silence before I finally dared to look up. He seemed shocked, but also _concerned_ I thought.  
  
“Let me get this straight. You are eighteen years old. You gotta care for children. And you can’t find a job because you are way too young.”  
  
“Yeah.” The pretty much summed it up.  
  
“Children. Plural. How many?”  
  
“Four, well three. I’ve got three children, but my little sister is living with me. Our parents died a few months ago. There was no one we could go to.” Or that was what I was supposed to tell him.  
  
“Three children? How old are they? And your sister?”  
  
“Adonia is two. I’ve got twins Luca and Marciana they turned four last month. Sophia is 15, she’s got a full ride to Julliard already.” I couldn’t help the smile that sneeked onto my face. I was so proud of her. Even after everything she held it together so well. James let out a harsh breath.  
  
“Gosh. Four years… is- is that even possible?” He mumbled more to himself, but I flinched either way. Sure they were not my real kids, but I had to make him believe that and they might as well be, the way I raised them until now. But thinking they really were my children….  
  
“Yeah, I know. I started younger than most. What with going to MIT at 13.” He had to think I was a whore. And wasn’t that right anyway?  
  
“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry.” I just nodded, he was right and I knew it.  
  
“Look, here’s the deal.  You’ll be working 5 hours today. I’m satisfied with your work, the job is yours. You’ll get $1500 a month, 120 hours. It’ll be 60 for todays work. You work here you’re going to bring your youngest Adonia – was it? – with you and save the money for daycare. Natasha can watch her, while you are working, Clint’s children used to be here a lot too. You get a fair chance at working today. And you’ll be getting a fair payment. All you have to do for that is give me an honest answer to my next three questions.”  
  
“Oh my god, yes. Anything.” Honesty. I could do Honesty. Well, to a degree. And anyway I was a pretty good actor.  
  
“How long have you been living by yourselves?” That was easy.  
  
“Four months.”  
  
“How did you afford four months costs of caring for a family of five?” my stomach dropped.   
  
Not so easy. I knew I blanched at the question. I needed this job, so, so bad. Would he kick me out for doing something illegal? And which illegal one should I tell him anyway? Gambling, fighting or fucking? Gambling, seemed like he might call the police on me, but if I told him I fought, would he think I was violent? And I couldn’t just outright tell him I fucked guys and the occasional woman on the streets at night.  
  
“I teach rich kids math. Did a few repairs for some of the neighbors. I’m good at couponing. There was some money our parents left us. Not much but it decked the rent for two months. I’m fighting for money at the docks, usually thrice a month. I do what I have to.” Saying that was hard. If nothing, it showed how desperate I was. He seemed thoughtful. And seemed to watch out for any signs that I was lying. This was so not what I expected when I applied for this job. One last question. I could feel, it would be the worst of all.  
  
“Anthony, did you sell yourself?” And it hit right where it hurt. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t risk lying and honestly I didn’t want to anymore. I lied to Sophia, but she knew anyway. She was clever, she probably knew the first time I went out at night and came back without a broken face.  
  
“I do what I have to.” It was answer enough. Considering there was the thud of a fist punching the wall and a groaned “Fuck.” It was certainly enough. I didn’t know why he cared so much. But maybe that’s just who he was. I had to remind myself, some people still were like that – caring. Then there was silence again. I didn’t raise my head this time. I was surprised when I felt James soft fingers lifting my chin. In his bright eyes was no disgust, only worry and anger. I was glad. I could handle that.

  
“Come on, let’s get to work.”

 

He showed me the workshop. It was big. Well kept tools. Beautiful cars. He showed me all of them, then he pointed at a Chevy Impala, told me he knew what was wrong with her, but hadn’t fixed it yet. He flat out told me it was a test, told me where he kept spare parts, tools and how to use the auto hoist. After that he left me to it. And I got to work. I found the problem fast, fixed it even faster. So after half an hour I was all done with her. James was nowhere to be seen, not in the office we were in earlier, not on the big courtyard. I didn’t dare looking in other rooms so I just gave up and looked at the other cars.

I found a few protocols and started where they left off. I just went to it. It felt great finally working on machines again. The smell of motor oil and leather. The feeling of metal beneath your hands. I just worked and worked and worked. And I never wanted to stop. I missed this. I missed inventing. But this was as close as I would get to doing what I loved most. I didn’t notice James leaning in the doorway, watching me, didn’t notice the blond man beside him. Didn’t notice anything.   
  
That was why I bumped my head against metal in a startled move, when I heard the other man – probably Clint – say “Are you gonna stop someday? Because I don’t think there are enough cars for you to keep on going in this speed.”  
  
I groaned, as I rolled out from under the mustang I was working on. Now that I thought about it, it was the last car in the garage.  
“Well, now I’m concussed. And it isn’t even your fault, James.” I said rubbing my forehead, I walked over to them. I held out my hand to him.  
  
“Hi, I’m Anthony Russo.” He took it not caring it was covered in grease.  
  
“Clint Barton. So did you leave us anything to work on or did you really fix 6 cars in 5 and a half hours?”  
  
“Five and a half? It didn’t feel that long. I just couldn’t find James anywhere when I was finished with the impala and I just – kept fixing? I’m sorry. I missed working on cars.”  
  
“Sorry?? I’m overjoyed you just cleared my schedule for the whole week.”  
  
“Don’t worry Clint. I already made some calls. The cars we declined last week and preponed most of the assignments next week.” James laughed.  
  
“Sometimes, I just hate you, man.” Clint grumbled. I could see now, what James had meant when he said they were like family.  
  
“Sooo? Do you have a job for me?” James looked at me like I was cazy.  
  
“Are you kidding? I’m never gonna let you go. When I’m thinking I was your last option. All those idiots that declined you, I’m a lucky bastard… The contract is inside.”  
  
“The contract? There is a contract already??”  
  
“I told you I won’t let you go. You are a god-send.” We went inside and sat down at the desk, there were five pages of text. I read them, already used to all the legal expressions. I stopped short.  
  
“That, that is not the wage we agreed on?” I asked.  
  
“No, its $1,800, it’s much less then you deserve, Anthony. You really did the work of a whole week in less than six hours. This is incredible. You are incredible. You’re not talented you are brilliant. I can only imagine what would have been if life would have been better to you. I want you to take the weekends off, no exceptions. I want to meet your children. I want you to be a real part of our little family. You working here, we can double our intake and I can raise your payment after a while. In that envelope are $1,860. $60 for today and the rest is upfront for next month. You’re going to pay your rent tomorrow and you are going to pay for food. I can’t tell you what to do with your life, but I don’t want you out on the streets or in a cage fight, maybe I can help you stay out of that.” I blinked fast against the tears in my eyes, threatening to fall.  
  
“Thank you, James.” I whisper the most sincerely I could take without breaking down in tears of relief. James smirked.  
  
“Call me Bucky. Everybody does.”  
  
“Well, I’m Tony then.” I said, feeling my bright smile wobble with emotion.  
  
“No you’re still a headcase. Welcome into our little family.”

 

“Daddy!” It was still strange. Hearing my sibling call me their father, was all kinds of wrong and yet it was the only possibility. We needed to keep the act believable. Sophia and I were orphaned, I had became father at 14. Their mother, two years older than me. We were happy, she died during giving birth to Adonia. Our parents died 4 months ago. We tried to stay under the radar, so they wouldn’t take Adonia, Marcy and Luca from me. We got by. That’s what we told people.   
  
I was careful to be known as Anthony Russo. Not Tony Stark. I was glad, Sophia was a common enough name and nobody really knew the kids anyway. I made a lot of headlines but pictures of me were few and in between. I was growing a goatee anyway. I needed to look mature for one and I needed to look entirely not like Tony Stark. People always told me I looked a lot like Howard. So I was slowly changing into someone else. I was changing into Anthony Russo, I was maturing, I was becoming ‘Daddy’. And I couldn’t decide if that meant finding or losing who I truly was. Maybe both.  
  
“Hey, baby girl!” Adonia cheered when I picked her up and swung her around once.  
  
“How are you doing?” I asked, smiling fondly. This was a great day and Adonia was always happy. She was a true sunshine. Falling out of line with her golden Locks and forest green eyes, she looked a lot like her grandmother. I never got to know her, but I saw some pictures.  
  
“Am go’ daddy.” She answered.  
  
“She’s such a clever girl.” Mrs. Cass said.  
  
“Of course she is.” She was a Stark. After seeing three Stark children learning to speak, Adonia was hardly any different. They all spoke full sentences before their third birthday. They were all so special. I knew she liked Mrs. Cass. I didn’t really want to take away a trusted person from her, but well I couldn’t just not.  
  
“Was she good today?”  
  
“Of course she was.” She told me, mimicking my voice. “She always is.”  
  
“Alright, darling. Can you wait for me for a minute? Then we’ll be going home.” Adonia just nodded, distracted by the toy in her hands. It was a plush wrench. Good god. Marcy was exhausting enough, I didn’t need another one of that ever interested question-monsters. Why couldn’t one of them be interested in literature? Anything? Something I just didn’t know about goddamn it. And still I was kinda happy she took after me. Maybe it was genetical after all. I sat her down in the play are and left her to her own devices playing with – of course – more plush tools.  
  
“You are terrible, Mrs Cass. Why would you give her toy wrenches? Marcy is only four and she’s constantly dissecting my phone already. We don’t need another mechanic.” She laughed.  
  
“Oh Anthony.”  
  
“No. No, this ain’t funny at all. Imagine them teaming up when they are teenagers. No electronic device will be safe. They will blow up the house, every time I’m shopping for groceries.”  
  
“She told me today, she really liked the biology book you gave her last month. Only after she showed it to me, I realized she could read.” She said entirely flashed.  
  
“She’s not really, baby steps. She knows the alphabet and I read it with her. She memorizes the words and associates them to what I said. Until her pronunciation gets better, its all we can do.”  
  
“Are, are you telling me this is nothing special to you?”  
  
“Well, I’ve seen it three times already. Gosh Sophia was exhausting. It’s a family trait I guess. We all could comprehend full complex sentences at two years old. They all could build them to. But pronunciation needs time and practice. It’s motorically not intellectual. It’s frustrating for them to be baby-talked or not being able to say what they want to. At least I can remember it was for me.” It was one my first memories, the anger at my lips for not being able to get these damn words out.  
  
“The five of you surely are something else.”  
  
“I don’t know why you are even shocked after those four months.” She laughed.  
  
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I should have seen that coming. She needs special support, you know that, right? She needs to be challenged, she wants to learn and there must be people available that have the time and the knowledge to teach her.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m trying. I really am, I put their education first but it’s expensive. Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about. I got a new job today.”  
  
“Oh that’s great, congratulations!”  
  
“Thanks. So, you see, there is a free day care. I hate taking Adonia out of a familiar surrounding, but I can’t really afford paying for your time, if there is a different way. I gotta save money where I can.” I said. I was so sorry, I had to do this. But there were more important things than private day care to pay for.  
  
“Of course. I understand that, Anthony. I get the feeling there is something really important you are gonna need the money for. Is there?”  
  
“Yeah, actually Sophia had to get through something very traumatic lately. And she’s handling it great. But I can tell, she’s feeling lost and I don’t know how to help her. I want to look into therapy for her.” I grimaced a little.  
  
“That really is important. So I take it this is the last time you’re gonna need my services?” there was a flash of steel blue eyes.  
  
“Well, I could use a babysitter from time to time, if you are open to that?”  
  
“I’d love to. Your little troublemakers are a pleasure to watch over.”  
  
“Maybe you want to come over entirely private sometime. A cup of tea. Just talking, catching up with Adonia. She really likes you and I get why.” I proposed. She was a great woman. And Sophia needed a role model she could look up to. More than one actually, May was a big help with that, but talking with Mrs. Cass was always a good way for Sophia to get calmer and relax a little more.  
  
“I see what you are doing. You’re trying to rope me into being those kids part-time granny.” She grinned, with a fake stern look. I grinned wide.  
  
“Is it working yet?” She laughed loud and I heard a small giggle from Adonia.  
  
“I think it is. You are a great father, Anthony. I hope you know that. It’s amazing what you do for them. And you are still so young. If this is what our youth has come to I’m glad to witness it.”  
  
“Thank you. You know I’ll just call you when Adonia is missing you.” Calling. Oh right, James – Bucky – I didn’t give him my number. Damn.  
  
“You do that young man, and I will call to make sure you are taking care of yourself.” She pulled me into a hug. It wasn’t that strange, she did it quite often actually. Somehow this felt less like goodbye more like the beginning of a new friendship. I’d be glad if that was the case. I needed friends, desperately. I couldn’t talk to Pepper or Rhodey. So I needed new people. Starting with my 60-year-old babysitter and my boss, who I got the hots for was maybe not exactly perfect, but it felt okay.  
  
“Call me if you need anything, okay?” I asked. I knew she only had a daughter, who was living in Paris, no other family. And even though I didn’t know her that long I cared about her.  
  
“ _You_ call _me_ if you need anything, Anthony.” I smiled. I was so glad I met her.  
  
“Ciccina, are you ready to go?” I asked. She rose with all grace a two year old could muster and strode towards me. Pepper would be proud.  
  
“Wai’n o’ yu’” She told me. I definitely understood her, but I didn’t want to let her get away with snarking me in baby-babble.  
  
“What was that?” The look she gave me was downright dirty. She was destined to be a hellion, nobody could deny that.  
  
“I. Am. Waitin’. ‘or. You.” She looked deeply satisfied and I tried to hide my proud smile, raising my hands in defense instead.  
  
“Alright, alright. I’m ready now. So we can go. You want to me to pick you up?” She shook her head, pouting.  
  
“Wanna wak.”  
  
“Alright. I’ll take your things.” I grabbed the small bag and checked for her paci and Maria, her plush rabbit – gosh, that name killed me every time she said it, it was like she didn’t know it was her mothers name, or maybe she did and she named it Maria because she missed her, any way it was pure mind-fuck.  
  
“See you soon, Mrs. Cass.” I said. Opening the door, I looked towards Adonia. She was still pouting a little, but she also shifted nervously. Finally she raised her wobbly gaze to me.  
  
“Don’ wanna wak?” she asked quietly. I smiled fondly. I picked her up without comment. I turned her so she could see Mrs. Cass.  
  
“Say Bye, sweetheart.”  
  
“Bye, Mis’ Cass.”  
  
“Bye Adonia. Watch out for your Daddy for me.” She waved softly.  
  
“A’ays.” Adonia said and waved back. I sent her a last smile and then left.

  
“Ciccina?” She leaned her head against my neck, so I felt her breath when she answered. It always calmed me to feel that she was really here with me.  
  
“Yah’?”  
  
“Are you very tired? I need to step by my new workplace to talk to my boss. Is that okay or do you want to go home?”  
  
“O’ay.”  
  
“Thank you. I won’t be long.”  
  
“’addy?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“’at me’ands mo- motolially?” Motolially? I had some practice in deciphering not so correct spoken words, but it took me long to figure out what she meant.  
  
“Motorically?” She nodded excitedly.  
  
“Well, it means things with your body. Like walking, you are moving your feet motorically, or tapping, then you are moving your fingers motorically, and speaking too. When you want to say something all parts of your mouth have got work to do. The lips, the tongue, even your teeth gotta move out of the way and – well and your thumb, you can’t talk with a thumb in your mouth, do you?” I said when I looked at her. I pulled out her paci and quickly swapped it for her hand, putting her second arm around my neck again.  
  
“So, as I said: Speaking is motorically and that means you have to practice these things to do them correctly. That’s why the words you think, don’t sound right when you are saying them. You haven’t had time yet to practice it.”   
I talked slowly, still I knew she didn’t understand everything I said. But she got the jist of it and she didn’t feel dumb when I talked to her like that. I never wanted to make her feel that way. I wanted to raise them right. I needed to be perfect for them, or at least try to be.  
She pulled out her paci, when she answered.  
  
“So I hav’ta tak and t’en I tak wike g’own up?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s right, my sweet clever girl. You just keep practicing and you will get better, everything in life works that way.”  
  
Satisfied she put the pacifier in her mouth again. It was a short walk from Mrs. Cass to our apartment and James’ – ah darn Bucky’s – shop was only a block from that. I walked in through the front door. Seeing the reception for the first time. There was a beautiful redhead sitting at the desk, sorting through papers and all. She looked up and smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up.  
  
“Oh, hi! You gotta be Tony.” She said, standing up and walking towards me.  
  
“Well, I am, but how did you know?” She smirked.  
  
“A few weeks and you won’t ask that anymore. I’m Natasha.” She stretched out her hand and I quickly rearranged Adonia in my arms so I could shake it.  
  
“And who may you be, huh?” Natasha asked. Asked for the name of my daughter. It was hard every time I did it. The little girl blinked slowly, she was tired and shy, she answered anyway.  
  
“Adonia.” It was one of the few words she could say perfectly, right after ‘No’. Natasha’s eyebrows rose a little bit.  
  
“Adonia? Well, that’s a beautiful name, your Daddy picked well.” She said with a glance towards me. Adonia blushed a little and hid her face.  
  
“She’s a little shy.” I excused. “Actually, I just noticed that I didn’t leave my number earlier. If you got a pen I can wri-“  
  
“Oh, no!” She interrupted me and I stared perplex. “No, just walk through to the office.” She pointed towards the door in front of us. “Bucky would be thrilled if you gave him your number. And I’m sure he would like to meet Adonia.”  
  
“Oh okay. Thanks.” I said.  
  
“Second door on the left.” What was that? Well maybe she was just busy. The door was closed so I knocked.  
  
“Come in!” James shouted. I opened the door and walked in. He sat at the desk, his long black hair entirely disheveled. The smudge of black along his cheekbone highlighted the blue in his eyes. He was stunningly beautiful.  
  


“Tony! Is everything alright?” James quickly stood and stepped closer to us. He smiled softly at me.  
  
“Yeah. I just noticed I didn’t leave my number. So ahm I just decided to drop by?”  
  
“Oh of course. Yeah, I forgot that, too. Would have noticed when I wanted to call you to check for your work times.” He laughed a little. I could swear there was a slight blush creeping up his face.  
  
“Anyway, I didn’t think I’d get to meet her that fast? You are Adonia, right?” The girl looked up and nodded jerkily.  
  
“A’ya f’ends?” She asked. And I didn’t know how to answer. How the hell did you explain Employer-Employee relationships?  
  
“I – ah, yes we are friends.” I said glancing towards James, he nodded still smiling brightly.  
  
“James, may I represent Adonia Russo. Ciccina, this is James.”  
  
“Bucky.” He corrected lightly. Arg damn. I couldn’t even get his name right. Adonia giggled.  
  
“Tat’a fu’ny name.” James seemed astonished.  
  
“I guess the intelligence is a family trait, huh?” He asked. I nodded – there was no use denying it. He would meet the rest of my little monsters sooner or later.   
“You speak very well, Adonia. Can you tell me how old you are?”   
She nodded excitedly and raised both her hands in front of her, balancing on my arms, trusting me to hold her. She stretched her fingers and tipped each of them, forming words with her lips. She counted I realized. Then she stopped at her pinky and looked at me seriously.  
  
“Se’ me ‘own. Ah ‘eed yu’ han’s.” Well okay. I sat her down and crouched beside her, holding out my hands. She wasn’t counting her age, she _knew_ how old she was and two didn’t need two sets of hands anyway, so maybe she was telling him in months. That was a common thing when kids were still beneath 3 years, right? But then she’ll definitely need a third set of hands and sure enough, she touched my fingers each before turning towards James.  
  
“Yu’ to’” She demanded.   
  
“She’s gonna be a tyrant, Tony.” James fake whispered towards me, but complied anyway. She stated a new and finally folded James’ thumb in, then turned to me and started counting all fingers available, stopped in the middle shook her head and started again.   
  
Finally, she looked to James and said: “Am twe’ny ni’ mont’s ol’.” He looked no less then absolutely amazed.  
  
“You are a family of genius. I feel inferior to a two years old girl, that’s not how imagined my day to be like.” He joked.  
  
“You make it sound a blessing. I’m pretty sure this family is cursed.”  
  
“I’d say your family is highly talented. A two-year-old just counted her age in months. That is fucking impressive. I can’t stop imagining your breakfast conversations.”  
  
“Actually, there aren’t many. Sophia is unresponsive at best before 8. I’d say she takes after me, but it usually just takes coffee to make me happy.”  
  
“So I take it coffee is the way to your heart?”  
  
“Why, yes, James. For the record, coffee will get you everywhere. Food sometimes does too.” As if on command, or if I’d just reminded her of something, Adonia peeked up.  
  
“Am hu’ngy, ‘ady.” Why of course.  
  
“Okay, baby I’ll be quick and we can eat when we get home. Kay’?” She pouted.  
  
“No.” Well, there it was. Temper on the way of becoming a tantrum. “Wanna ea’ now.”  
  
“Ciccina, we’ll eat together at home, all of us. Don’t you wanna wait on your siblings for dinner?”  
  
“No!” Her pouting lip wobbled a bit and I knew there was no getting out of this. Either I had a crying child telling me she hated me all the way home or I just let her eat now. I knew there was something in the bag.  
  
“Tony, not to sabotage you, but if you’d want to you could let her eat here. I wouldn’t mind, in fact we could talk some more. If you’d like to.” James told me. It was a lot easier. And I was tired, I didn’t want to deal with her announcing how much she hated me. I sent him a relieved glance before I sat down on one of the couches. Pulling out some food and a plastic spoon. Adonia sat on my lap, leaning against the couch for balance, while I fed her. I didn’t trust her not to spill everything all over the cushions and for once she didn’t protest – lucky me. James took a seat at the other end of the comfortably big couch.  
  
“So what do you do? Like – in your free time?” he asked and I tried to think of something reasonable but I couldn’t find anything other than cooking, cleaning and changing diapers.  
  
“I don’t actually have a lot of free time. The kids come first you know. There isn’t all that much time for hobbies.”  
  
“So what would you do? If you got the time?”  
  
“I really do love mechanics, you know? So I guess if I had the time and resources I’d be tinkering away. Just fixing, creating, making things better. I really miss that. I also did boxing before – you know- all of this. So maybe I’ll pick that up again, someday.” I missed inventing a great lot actually. It hurt having to push every thought of it down. And strange as it was I missed my bots. But it was worth it. Giving my family a chance at normality was worth it. I wondered if dad missed us. If he even really noticed we were gone. Did he worry? Did he care? Was he scared for us? Or was he happy to be free of us or – well, free of me.  
  
“That sounds nice. I like working on cars. I guess after being deployed something about them not trying to hurt me appeals to me, but I’m not that natural with machines in particular. Honestly, science bores me.”  
  
“Science made your arm.” I said feeding Adonia another spoon and then stopped short. Registering what I said, I went full on blushing.  
  
“I’m sorry, that- I didn’t –“  
  
“No it’s okay. I wondered when you’d mention it. It _is_ pretty obvious.” Well the silver plating kinda did give it away. He didn’t seem angry about what I said, but he appeared cautious?  
  
“I- well, I’m still sorry that was rude- a character trait, I fear, working on it – it’s just your arm it’s beautiful. It’s really fascinating. And it’s so advanced. It’s not military issued, everybody can tell and it’s definitely no hammer tech, it seems their standard. I mean it looks heavy as fuck and a little clumsy, and I could probably do better- by the way can you feel with it? Like does it register touch? And how-“ I was interrupted by James soft laugh. Only then I noticed that I stopped the second to last spoon of food half way there, just frozen in the air while my other hand gesticulated wildly and I was rambling, like full on talking without stop and without brain-to-mouth-filter, which usually meant that I was inconsiderate to the point of saying actually hurtful shit. Fuck. Not good.  
  
“Sorry?” I asked, already not sure what exactly had left my mouth.  
  
“No, don’t be. That was refreshing and you look cute with your eyes shining like that.” My eyes did what? But before I could ask, there was a sudden Sound of ACDC. James looked around suddenly alarmed.  
  
“That is my phone. I ah- could you get it for me?” I asked. I was kinda still busy. He stood and walked to the desk where it was blasting thunderstruck.  
  
“It’s your sister.”  
  
“Sophia? Oh, yeah, could you put her on speaker, please, if you don’t mind.”  
  
“Sure.”  
  


“Where are you, Tony?” Sophia’s voice sounded from the shoddy speakers of my phone.  
  
“I just picked Adonia up. I’ll be there in a few, ok? I just stopped by at my new workplace to leave my number.” I quickly gave the last spoon of food to Adonia and started cleaning her up.  
  
“Okay. Wait, what? Your workplace? You got a job?” she asked excitedly.  
  
“Why, yes Sophia, I did get a job today. I just forgot to leave my number. James will give me free in a minute.” I answered with no small amount of satisfaction. She had, as well as I, given up hope for me finding a job. She didn’t even know I had an interview today.  
  
“James, huh? Is he a co-worker?” she questioned suggestively.  
  
“He’s my boss.” I hoped that would stop her.  
  
“Oooooh your boss? Anthony, is he hot?” My gaze shot towards James and I noticed he looked extraordinary smug.  
  
“Burning. But don’t worry I got to the fire-extinguisher quickly.” That got a blazing grin out of the extremely attractive man.  
  
“Ahww, just tell me. You actually went to see him, just to give him your number? You do know what that sounds like, right?” Oh fuck. I didn’t tell him that. James probably thought I was hetero considering I told him I had children. There had had to have been a mother once. Was he cool with that? What if he kicked me out because of that? A quick glance towards his face showed nothing really concerning. He seemed relaxed still. So maybe there was hope.  
  
“Sophia!”  
  
“Come on. Tony, I’m not dad. I actually knew you liked men when I hit double digits. Please tell me you asked him on a date yet.” James actually seemed like he was holding back laughter.  
  
“Sophia, stop!” I knew I my face must be a bright red by now. Which was annoying, I didn’t often get embarrassed. Yet, she succeeded each and every time.  
  
“No. When was the last time you went on a date? Ask him. I just can feel you got the hots for him.”  
  
“God, just kill me.” James let out a roaring laugh, that was so beautiful it was almost worth it, almost. There was a brief pause on the phone before she got it.  
  
“I’m on speaker, aren’t I?”  
  
“Yes and you just embarrassed the hell out me.”  
  
“Why are you putting me on speaker while you are with your boss?!” she scolded.  
  
“Because Tony is a little busy right now and told me to grab his phone. Hi there.” James said.  
  
“Oh my I’m so sorry. I don’t even know if you are interested in men or maybe you are already taken. Please tell me you’re not one of those homophobic assholes. Did I just ruin your new job, Tony?”  
  
“Wow, easy there. You two are so much alike it’s disturbing, I literally saw those exact same thoughts on his face a few seconds ago. So, no I’m not homophobic, in fact I came out eight years ago. No, I am not currently in a relationship. I won’t fire your brother for his sexuality. And I am a little bit of an asshole, mostly when I’m hungry.”  
  
“Hell, you can’t be real. Oh my gosh I haven’t even seen you, but god you sound sexy. When you said you came out, was that a came out as in exclusively men?”  
  
“Yeah, not interested in ladies.”  
  
“Shame. Always the good ones. Sure I couldn’t bring you to the dark side?”  
  
“Very certain actually. Considering you were trying play matchmaker a minute ago.”  
  
“Right! I was supposed to do that. So Tony’s probably not going to ask, but I take it you’ve got the balls to do so. Don’t wait to long. I know for a fact that there are a lot boys n girls after him. Half of my grade has a crush on him and that’s only because the other half hasn’t seen him yet.” That was so not true. And even if it was, who would want me after they got a whiff of my baggage.  
  
“Will you please stop, already?” I sighed.  
  
“But he needs incentive.”  
  
“Well, if I’m not incentive enough, then he’s not interested anyways. I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be there in a few, okay?”  
  
“Sure. Bye, James.” I ended the call and rubbed at my neck, before finally writing my number down on the piece of paper on the desk.  
  
“So, I gotta go. Will you text me your number?”  
  
“Yeah. Of course. And ah just so you know my apartment is right upstairs. So ah, just…if you need anything.”  
  
“Thanks, okay, I better get going.” I said picking up my sleepy sister.  
  
“Thanks for coming by.” He said keeping eye contact.  
  
“Sure. See ya.” I waved awkwardly and left. Waving goodbye to Natasha currently speaking on the phone and made my way home.  
The twins greeted us excitedly. It was a fairly usual afternoon. I made Spaghetti and asked about their days, chatted and laughed a little. It was nice having this. But I just couldn’t have nice things.  
  
“Tony, can I talk to you for a second?” Sophia sounded solemn, somehow tense. I was washing up after dinner. The kids were in their room playing and Adonia was soundly asleep.  
  
“What’s wrong?” She took a deep breath.  
  
“I- There is no good way to tell you this. I lost my fake ID.” She rushed it out, her voice harsh and laced with guilt. All breath left me at once and I dropped the plate I was just drying. It shattered on the tiles loudly, but we both ignored it.  
  
“I left my bag alone just for a second – I swear. It was less than five minutes but when I got back my purse was missing. I looked everywhere. I checked every last damn place. I even went through the bag of some girl that hates me, but I couldn’t – it’s gone. I’m so sorry.”   
Tears glistened in her eyes. And I wanted to comfort her. Tell her it was gonna be okay. I would just buy another. She needn’t have to worry. It wasn’t her fault. Could happen to everyone. It was my fault, we couldn’t exactly just go to the orderlies and replace it. Fuck. I knew it could happen. I kept the kids faked papers together with the real ones in a safe in the apartment, but Sophia and I needed our IDs almost daily, so we carried them with us. I wanted to say it was inconvenient but no problem. It was a real fucking big problem. We needed damn good IDs, I hired the best forger to be found in all of New York, hard as it was. The whole ordeal had cost 200 grands, full on new identities, school records, birth certificates, passports – the real deal. Better safe than sorry. It was expensive as hell and I took the college funds for the kids for it.   
  
A new ID would at least be ten. And all IDs still needed to be renewed in a few years. I already made me a deal that it would be 20 for all of them, the guy that made them was a fair one, actually a nice human being. He took pity on us. He could read people, I thought he got me all figured out the first three words we talked. But he still wanted his money and he was right to demand it. So there went the 60 grand down to at max 30. If worse came to the worst that wouldn’t even cover college for one of the kids. Interests were low. Even lower if 10 grands were spent years before it was planned. And that meant I had to step up my game. I needed to provide for our lives – full on. No loans, no lazy paying Mrs. May. I needed to get Sophia into therapy. I wanted to let the kids go onto school trips. I needed to put away about double of what I had planned. Because I HAD planned to save money, once we were all settled in and things went smoother. Because I needed a car. Because we needed a bigger apartment. They all should have their own rooms someday. And I wanted to send Sophia extra money to spend on fun things when she went to college in 8 months.   
  
College where she needed her ID. Oh god. I barely scraped by now. And while the job at James’ was helping it was nowhere near enough. So I would be on the streets a lot more often in the foreseeable future. I was almost sick with the thought.  And suddenly my knees were too weak to carry me, and I was sliding down the kitchen sink. Sitting curled on the cold tiles it was getting harder and harder to breath by the second. I struggled to stop the carousel of thoughts and worries in my mind from becoming a full blown panic attack. I felt arms folding around my shoulders and a steady weight settling into my side. Sophia sobbed softly into my shirt and while her crying was upsetting, the closeness calmed me, it was something I seldom allowed. Slowly I pulled her closer, hugging her back. She kept saying she was sorry – sob – sorry – sob.  
  
“Don’t be. It’s okay.” It was not.  
  
“I’ll call Caffrey and by the end of next week we will have forgotten about this, okay?” I told her. Not likely.  
  
“Liar.” She sniffed with a faint smile.  
  
“Heads up, sweetheart. It’s not the worlds end.” I whispered. Close enough.  
  
“But I don’t want you to work more. You are always tired these days.”  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine. I can handle getting in some over hours.”  
  
“I could help you. I could look for a job. Or you know.. I could…..”  
  
“Could what?”  
  
“I…. I know you are working the streets. If you can do that, I coul-“  
  
“No!” I barked out.  
“No. You will never even think about doing that, you hear me? This is not open for discussion. You will never do that. And that’s final.” I said in my most serious tone of voice I could muster. She seemed to get it though, since she didn’t object besides the furious glance she gave me.  
  
“I could still find an after school job, as a waitress or something.” She said while wiping down her face.  
  
“Listen, if you want to play at clubs or something because you want to, because it’s fun and it’s training for playing in public and you are happy to do it. I’m all for that. But I don’t want you taking up a job, because you feel obligated. I want you to concentrate on your school work and on your music and just being a teenager.  Your stipendium for Julliard is the biggest help you could ever give me. And if you find you want to play at clubs, the money you earn is yours. Entirely yours. I don’t want a cent of it. You keep it for things I can’t buy you.”  
  
“But I want to help you. I feel so useless, seeing you running yourself ragged.”  
  
“Are you kidding? You are helping. A lot. You care for the kids, taking them with you every morning, watching them during the day, making dinner and doing the laundry. You are stability to them, more than I can give. You are my rock, Sophia. I couldn’t do this without you. What you are doing is more then enough, my love.” I could tell she wasn’t entirely happy with my answer, still she seemed calmer as she snuggled further into me.  
To be all true, she didn’t help that much, don’t get me wrong she was fantastic, and she watched the kids fairly often and kept the rooms considerably clean. I still did most of the householding and cooking and learning with the twins or reading books to Adonia. And that was right. It was exactly how it was supposed to be. Sophia had to learn a lot for her ride to Julliard, because she was a genius at the piano, she was also dyslexic, letters only made sense to her if the stood for tunes. She compensated her disability graciously. And she needed time to heal. She was raped. She needed time to get trough this, time without burdens. I could provide that and I would continue to do so.  
We sat in silence for a while, before she sighed.  
  
“I love you, Tony.” She said. My heart warmed a little at that. This why I did all of it. This was worth it.

 

It was worth it. It was worth it. I reminded myself over and over. It was the only thought I had while sucking the dick belonging to a – well a dick. The plastic of the cheap condom tasted aweful but it needed to get done and I needed to be good at it, or clients would turn me down. So I reminded myself who I did this for and I gave all I had in me. When he was done he just pushed me away harshly.  
  
“At least you’re worth it, bitch.” Dick said and was gone.   
  
I hit the concrete hard, not prepared for the impact. It would be a bruise tomorrow, but nothing bad, so whatever. I leaned against the wall in my back. Giving myself a chance to catch my breath. It was hard sometimes. Staying strong. I caught myself looking towards the other kind of business on the street more often. Prostitutes were not the only ones raiding the streets at night. Three months ago I chose to share an area with only female hookers. I probably didn’t get as much customers each night, considering most of the clients in the area were strictly hetero and wasn’t into crossdressing much. But the girls here watched out for each other. They noticed if someone went missing or got into trouble. The first time I had fought an overly touchy client off some frail girl on the street, that wasn’t welcome anymore, they kinda adopted me. I was in someway an insurance that made it a little bit safer for them and that was why they also tried to help me. Pointing out the bisexual ones I could hit on and spreading the word of me being available, helping me establishing my own rules, my prices, looking out for cops. Just helping me ease my way in.   
  
One of them, Christine, even acquired a friend of hers for me. I liked working with them and while there still was rivalry, it was also companionship. And most of the girls were truly brave and nice women, shitty back story and all. But almost all of them also did drugs. There was everything from weed, to meth, to cocain, to heroin. If it was on the market, pretty sure one of the dealers around me had some of it. And I got why they did it. I got that. Doing this wasn’t easy, sometimes downright disgusting. It would have been nice to just float, to not care, to not feel the cold of the February nights. But I could not. For one because drugs were not the answer, second because drugs ruined lives, because drugs were expensive and destroyed your families. I had to hold onto mine with all I had. So no drugs for me. Even though I found myself wanting at times.  
Since I had to power up my dedication for this line of work, I would come here twice a week. Tuesday and Thursdays. Making Wednesday and Friday the days to go to the less classy areas. They always meant a lot more money. I had a pretty face and I was young enough to still attract the pedophilic type. It was sickening but sadly very true. With effort I could make 500 on a good night.  
  
I noticed a well known blue jeep driving up. It was one of my clients. One that always came here for me. He had himself introduced as John, but I knew better than taking names for true. I was Kenan around here. I walked up to the car in a sultry hip swinging strut, leaning down and batting my dark lashes.  
  
“Hi there.” I kept my voice low and soft only the right amount of raspy.  
  
“Hi there, honey. How are you today?”  
  
“Well, I could definitely be good for you.” I answered in a submissive tone. Those come backs were almost second nature to me by now. It got me a soft laugh. I was okay with John. He was relatively easy on the eyes, not too rough, always paid without complaint and very civil. He was one of the pleasant ones.  
  
“I did hope to get you tonight. You're always my favorite.”  
  
“Owww, baby. I’ll be here for you more often now.”  
  
“That right? How come?”  
  
“Well, I can’t let my favorite John wait one me, now can I?”  
  
“Always such a sweetheart.”  
  
“So why don’t you drive on up as usual? I’m waiting on you now.” I got a knowing smirk and then he carried on driving into the small alleyway I usually brought my clients for a small grant of privacy. I took a deep breath, while signaling to Sugar that I’d be busy for about twenty minutes.  
I mentally braced myself on the way towards him. John was leaning against his car and I stepped real close, laying a hand on his breast. Feeling him up a little. I couldn’t smell any alcohol so that was a plus.  
  
“What’s it gonna be today?” I asked. He put a hand on my small waist and pressed us together suddenly, so I had both my hands on his abs for balance and I could feel his attraction.  
  
“Why don’t you run your menu by me again?”  
  
“No inflation with me, honey, my prices stay the same. 10$ for just my hand, 30$ for a suck, I’m told I’m real good at that.”  
  
“Oh don’t I know, sweety. What else?” I looked at him through my eyelashes, letting my hands roam and licking my lips, watching how his pupils dilated at that.  
  
“For 80$ I’ll let you fuck me hard, any kink I’m all on for 10 bucks plus, pain play is 20$ surcharge. Or maybe you want me for all of the above, just tell me and we find us a nice motel an hour only 150$.”  
  
“Only 150$, huh? For everything? What about soft BDSM, is it inclusive too?” he asked while kneading my ass. I went along and groaned softly.  
  
“Nah sorry, babe. Pain Play 20$ addition. Motel room is on you, wrapped up only and money up front. That’s the rules.”  
  
“I’ll just go with my usual suck and fuck. You gonna give me a little discount for a regular, babe?”  
  
“You know, I shouldn’t do that, you know how it is: once you start it… but if you promise to tell nobody, I’m gonna do it for one of those sexy Benjamins I know you got in your pocket.” I grabbed his ass, as if I was feeling for his purse.  
  
“Oh I can keep quiet, don’t worry.” I could see the hunger in his eyes and tried not to let it get to me, that I was once again just talented meat, not a human being, as he pressed the bill into my hand and I let it disappear into a holster under my shirt. I sank to my knees and opened his stall. I wrapped him up before looking up.  
  
“You wanna go twice today, or should I stop before you get to it?”  
  
“Stop before. I wanna enjoy your other sweet hole properly.” Bile rose at my throat but I smiled anyway, pressing it down, before I started sucking him off. And I sure as hell was good at it. After about 5 minutes he was almost there so I pulled off with an obscene wet plop. I rose and opened my jeans pulling it just below my thighs and bending over without comment.  
  
“You know I’m feeling kinky today. I want you to call me daddy while I smack that sweet ass of yours so hard you won’t be able to sit for a while.” He whispered into my ear, quickly sliding into me.  I was already open from a client before and I always left well prepped. I sighed mentally.  
  
“Money upfront.” I recited. John started a quick pace and I moaned. He was big and he hit my prostate at almost every hard push. With that I started to slowly get hard.  
  
“oh come on, you will get your money, no worries.” He grunted while simultaneously pushing hard against my sweet spot and spanking me hard. I let out a short shout and I felt myself getting full on hard. I actually liked an edge of pain during sex (well, leaving out how I didn’t really _like_ sex), but I still wanted extra payment, it was a necessary safety measure. I remembered what John also wanted from me and went along. In the end I would have a burning ass this way or another, so I could get those 30$ for his kinks just as well.  
  
“Daddy!” I cried out in a moan when he hit me again.  
  
“Yeah, my little boy, wants his daddies cock, ain’t that right?” It was a little weird but I had encountered that particular kink already a few times and hey, he COULD have been my father.  
  
“Yes, Daddy, please fuck me, need your cock, Daddy.” He continued spanking my already burning behind, switching left and right until his rhythm got ragged and I knew he was close. A second later he bit into my shoulder while coming. The renewed pain sent a jolt of lust through me, quickly followed by a wave of self-hatred, but all it did was leaving me unsatisfied with a raging hard on. John stayed for a second, panting, before he pulled out and threw away the ruined condom. I hurriedly pulled up my jeans again, before turning to face him.  
  
“Damn. You are definitely my favorite, babe. So good.” He pulled out 50$ and pushed them into my pocket, groping my hard dick while at it. “And you liked it, too. Maybe I’ll get you to come untouched the next time.” He said.  
  
“Can’t wait.” I breathed and he laughed.  
  
“Bye, Babe.” He said getting into his car and pulling out onto the street. 150$. Not half bad for 25 minutes of my time. I was glad I had him as a regular. He showered regularly and had acceptable kinks and not once had he degraded or insulted me. He was one of the good guys and still I felt dirty and used. A feeling I would never overcome again. I simply tried to shut it down. Not to let myself feel anything. Sometimes it worked, sometimes not. Okay most of the time I just pretended that I didn’t feel anything. Anyway, I lied to everyone around me, I could handle lying to myself. I counted my profit on my way back to the street. 430$. Five clients. It was a good count. But not as good as I had hoped for. I checked my phone for the time and sighed when I saw that I had to get home now or I wouldn’t have time to clean myself up before getting the kids ready for school. I waved the girls good bye and was on my way.

I opened the door as quiet as humanly possible. There was no light, so I jumped when I noticed Sophia sitting at the table clutching a steaming mug in her hands.  
  
“You’re late.” She told me instead of a greeting.  
  
“I know, sorry. What are you doing up? It’s 5.45.” I got a dark look, it told me everything I needed to know.  
  
“I woke up Luca while screaming in my sleep.” I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat.  
  
“You know, you can talk to me. I’m always here if you need me.” I had told her several times and I would tell her again, I meant it but I was so tired, so broken. I didn’t know if I could help her.  
  
“I’m always here.” I repeated. Anger flashed in her eyes.  
  
“But you weren’t tonight, were you?” She spit out and put down her mug harshly before throwing back her chair and leaving. She paused in the doorway.  
  
“Go take a shower, you look dirty.” I knew it was only the remembrance of the bad night she had. I knew she probably didn’t really mean what she said, rationally I knew I did everything I could to make this bearable, rationally I knew she didn’t blame me. But I did. Only when I heard her door close ever so softly I dared walking into the bathroom, locking up behind me and leaning against the sink. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror I looked hollow, like a shell, I looked broken and used. I really did look dirty.

_Dirty Bitch, you love this, don’t you? You know it’s wrong and still you need it._

And with that I was gagging. Throwing up watery acid until my body registered that there was no food to be thrown up and decided to fuck it and decided to continue. The retching slowly faded into broken sobs and before I could stop it I was crying. Tears streaming down my face in chocked hiccupping sobs. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary. Not the throwing up nor the crying. But I still hated it every time. The only times my body registered with my emotions anymore and it would be those, everything but disgust, guilt and sadness was dull, only a shade of what I knew it used to be. Maybe I couldn’t feel happiness or pride anymore. Maybe I didn’t deserve it to feel them. The world was hazy around me. As dull as my feelings. I couldn’t really find it in me to get up and put on a smile and pretend and I just couldn’t right now. But I had to. So I dragged out the spare razor blade I kept only for this and stripped down before I made five cuts across my thigh, till the world didn’t seem hazy anymore. The pain cleared my thoughts and the shame I felt for resorting to this particular habit kicked me into gear. I stepped into the shower and scrubbed at my skin only stopping when it was raw and burning. I cleaned up and bandaged my leg, before dressing and waking up the kids with a smile. And if it was fake? Nobody had to know.


	2. Keeping on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took me a long time, but here its is!  
> (And i threw in some white collar, because i love that show!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

It was a gloomy Saturday. A day where you just wanted to snuggle in with your family and cuddle drinking hot cocoa. I felt cold just looking outside. But there were things to do. I didn’t really get to go grocery shopping or doing laundry on week-days. By the time it was noon I remembered there was a call to make.  
  
“Hello?”

“Can we meet?” I asked without ceremony.

“What happened?” He asked in a serious voice. It seemed like he always just kinda _knew_ things.

“I need a favor.”  
  
“You know, there are no favors with me, shortstack. Now, don’t bullshit me, what happened?” Neal asked.  
  
“My sister, her purse was stolen.” I said solemnly.  
  
“Stolen? Are you kidding me?” He sounded irritated. And it was somewhat justified. Her I.D. in the wrong hands could do a hell of a lot damage. Even though I would never give him away.  
  
“Yes. In high school. They’re teen-agers, not CIA, don’t make it a big deal. But either way it’s gone and she needs a new one. Listen, I know how much is at stake for you, but…”  
  
“No buddy, I don’t think you do. I’m wearing a shack, that tells the FBI – that I’m working with – where I am at all times and triggers an alert if I step one tiny inch out of my range. I can’t even go to the art gallery I want to visit, because it’s out of my radius. You convinced me to do this, if Peter catches me forging so much as a drivers license I’m a dead man, Stark.” An ankle monitor?  
  
“You do know, I could hack that thing, right?”  
  
“Good luck trying, no one ever was able to.”  
  
“Well, I’m not just anyone. I bet, I can do it. I will if you want me to, but I need you right now. I can’t let her walk around without documents. She’s a teen. She wants to go out, she deserves a little normalcy. What if she’s picked up by the police? Being a little drunk is not something I’m overly worried over, but if I can’t bail her out because she’s missing a fucking I.D. that is going mess things up. She’s not that popular, but she’s still a Stark. Our photos were plastered all over the news, for the last two fucking months. I won’t risk it, ok? We can’t go back.”  
  
“You know, you never told me what is going on with that. Why’d you leave in the first place.” He said it consciously casual, trying to coax out of me what he had not been able to find out, but dumb was not my style.  
  
“I pay in cash or programming, not sob stories.” I said coldly.  
  
“Oh, touchy. Alright. Just come to my place, I can’t afford meeting shady people out on the street now, do I?”  
  
“Sure. I’m the shady one. Text me the address, I’ll be there in an hour.” Not that I didn’t know the address, but I didn’t want him to feel threatened.  
  
“Don’t bring the kids.”   
A click signaled the end of the call. Caffrey was a good guy. It was strange saying that about a convicted criminal, but he definitely was a nice one. He never hurt anybody, he tried to hide it, but he actually cared. I’d seen people who couldn’t care less, he was not one of them. He had stopped his criminal career, what he did for me was an exception and it took more convincing than I had anticipated. It was fine though. Had worked out for us so far. I had kept an eye on Neal, ever since he stole one of our paintings. He was clever and charismatic, I was sorry to hear he had been captured. But the work with the FBI he was doing now, as his punishment for breaking out of prison three months before his release – which, stupid, by the way – it was good for him. I could tell there was something about using his devious mind for justice that appealed to him and his Partner. He liked him. Even though I had spoken to him only a few times and he was fairly defensive whenever I asked something personal, I could see the faint smile he had when he thought of the FBI and Peter. They were good friends. And Peter tried to keep Neal on the bright side of the force. I guess that counted as good, not for me in particular, but hey. I needed bout 30 minutes to get to his place by bike. So I’d make lunch real quick, the kids could eat while I was on my way. Pretty neat way of avoiding the “Why ain’t you eating?”-discussion for once.  
  
“Sophia?” I called.  
  
“Yeah?” she stepped into the kitchen closing the book she had been reading. Looked like school work.  
  
“I’m gonna make Lasagna, but I gotta meet up with someone. You okay handling them on your own?”  
  
“Yeah, of course. Who’re you meeting with?”  
  
“Just someone. I’ll take a couple hours maybe.” I said while pulling out some pans and stuff. Lasagna Bolognese was nothing special, but the kids liked it, it was cheap enough and it always reminded me of mom. Hers used to be awesome. Like exactly what you’d expect from her Italian heritage. But it was more than that. It was a meal we cooked together, mom and me, and the whole family would sit down at one table, no work with dad for once, just us and peace and lighthearted banter. It was something that showed me what family was supposed to be like. I wanted things to be like that. Making that special recipe something usual, something casual hurt a little. Soon they’d all be fed up with pasta and most times I wasn’t eating it and sometimes I wasn’t even there to eat with them. Because there were things to do. I destroyed my own dream of a family picture.  
  
“Tony?” I turned to see the twins standing in the doorway. They barely reached my hip, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were growing so fast.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You making lunch?” Marcy asked, her bright voice ringing with curiosity and joy. She always wanted to learn, her desire for knowledge of all kinds was endless.  
  
“I am. Lasagna, that okay with you?”  
  
“You want help?” Luca didn’t really share his sisters thirst for the unknown. He was an artist with every fiber. He often stopped in the middle of the street entirely captivated by the beauty of the world that I failed to see. I thought it was an incredible gift, noticing beauty and perfection in this fucked up world. He just appreciated life so much he wanted to make it immortal.  
  
“Yah, I’d like that. Come on up here. Luca, could you get me the ground meat out of the fridge please?” I pulled out a chair for Marcy to stand on, so she could stir. Cooking with them was easy enough. There wasn’t really anything difficult with this recipe and the twins only were messy when it came to decorating cupcakes, which by the way I should do again sometime, it was always fun. I even got that special “I-m-a-teenager-I-cant-possibly-have-fun-doing-something-that-childish”-smile out of Sophia while she sprinkled her cupcakes with pink glitter.  
  
Marcy was talking about how she couldn’t wait to go to school, like a big girl, and learning all about physics and math and mechanics. I didn’t want to disillusion her about how school was mostly a pretty boring place to just mark time. Who knew, maybe she even liked school. She could find interest in anything, history pretty much killed me, but she would soak everything up, so she was probably going to be fine. She was talking animatedly about becoming an engineer like her big brother and while my heart skipped a beat with the sentiment, she still had time to figure out what she really wanted. Luca was suspiciously silent through the whole conversation. Yeah, there was most definitely something up with that. Ever since he got into his new kindergarten, he was somewhat subdued. Not as chatty or joyful. And while that could be an effect of running from home, I didn’t think it was. His missing backpacks also told me a lot about what was going on. I needed to talk to him, but with a quick glance at my phone I sighed. I had to leave now or I’d be late and while that was not that much of a problem it was still me wanting something from him, not the other way round.  
  
“Alright. Sophia?”  
  
“Coming!”  
  
“I need to meet with a friend, so Sophia is gonna eat with you, okay?” Slightly betrayed blues eyed me suspiciously.  
  
“What friend?” Marcy asked with a slight frown.  
  
“Just a friend. I’ll only be a couple of hours and when I’m back we can all watch a movie together, hm?”  
  
“You only ever leave us lately.” Luca said with a pout and a dark glance. And fuck that hurt.  
  
“I’m sorry. I don’t like leaving you alone. I hate it, but I really need to meet with my friend, it’s very important. I’ll make up for it later, alright?” Luca didn’t look convinced. Light hands laid on my shoulders.  
  
“Just go. I’ll handle it.” Sophia whispered into my ear.  
  
“You sure about that?” I whispered back. The twins could be a handful if they wanted to be.  
  
“Do you remember those little videos, mom used to take of you when you were barely more than a toddler? You were a handful.” She said, reading my mind.  
  
“I was barely three feet tall.”  
  
“Three feet pure hellion. Luca reminds me of those videos.”  
  
“So it’s my fault, that’s what you wanna tell me?” I said with a smile.  
  
“Nah, not your fault. It’s a family trait.” I snorted at that. “Talking about hellions. I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I didn’t mean it that way. I love you.” She added, closing her arms around me from behind, leaning her head against my shoulder. I turned in her embrace and put a kiss against her forehead. I had to lift my head up for that. I wasn’t really all that tall, I just hoped she wouldn’t surpass me one day, that’d be embarrassing.  
  
“You are not allowed to wear high-heels. Like ever.” I decided and she laughed, probably following my train of thought.  
  
“Just get going.” She rolled her eyes at me, pushing me away. I put my small tool kit into a shoulder bag and grabbed my phone.  
  
“See you later.”  
  
  
The ride to Caffrey’s place was uneventful and I couldn’t stop thinking, about how much I put my siblings through. Surprisingly enough Caffrey lived in a nice area, big houses and pretty fences. I felt dirty just being here. Everything was clean and civilized. In a way I wasn’t anymore. My siblings could still have that. Living in a big as fuck mansion, with countless rooms no one ever used ~~but him~~. I wondered for the millionth time if I did the right thing. Just up and leave. Was I wrong? Would there have been another way? A better way? Probably. Considering the resentful glances, I got when I left. Sophia’s words still hurt. Not because she meant them, but because she was hurting so bad that she said them in the first place. I was glad Adonia was too young to be anything than adoring towards me, even if she would grow out of it soon enough.  
Caffrey lived in a fucking villa. I silently cursed him for that. He was charming, like a lot. People just liked him. Took him in for absolutely no solid reason. It just wasn’t fair.  
A dark-skinned lady opened the door.  
  
“Hello?” I held out my hand and smiled.  
  
“You must be the beautiful June. I’m Anthony.” She smiled back, taking my hand and laughing when I kissed it softly instead of shaking it.  
  
“Let me guess, you’re here for Neal.” She said opening the door wider.  
  
“I am. How did you know?” I asked stepping inside.  
  
“He always gets the pretty ones.” She sighed dramatically, “But until now they’ve been older and, well, female.” She added and I laughed.  
  
“Oh, I think these kind of friends will stay female, even though it’s a shame.” Caffrey was objectively beautiful and very neat. As in he will most likely be in a suit when I get up there and he will look gorgeous. Almost black hair and blue eyes. Exactly my type. Only missing a particularly shiny arm.  
  
“I knew that smile means trouble. Even the name. Anthony. So extraordinary elegant.” June said, a special spark to her eyes. So she most likely placed me with Neal’s openly criminal past and less openly criminal present.  
  
“It’s a family name.” My mother chose it after her own father, Antonio.  
  
“Lovely, always carrying pieces of your origin. You can just go up, dear.” Yeah, origin.  
  
“Thanks, June.”  
  
“Bye, Anthony.” She smiled. I bowed just to be a little shit and make her laugh again. I was successful.  
  
I didn’t knock, I just walked in and the door was open so surely that was what he wanted anyway. I was wrong he didn’t wear a suit. He was barefoot and in jeans, working on a painting of Paris? Maybe?  
  
“I’m pretty sure your landlady just flirted with me.”  
  
“Well, you are rather handsome and I just know you started it.” He said, without even turning, just calmly placing a last brush before setting his tools down.  
  
“You know my brother would be so upset if he knew I was meeting an artist.” That got his attention.  
  
“He got a thing for art?”  
  
“Yup. Always begging me to get him art lessons.”  
  
“Is he talented?” He asked.  
  
“He is four.” I said drily, “And I couldn’t tell anyways. I just like numbers.”  
  
“Nah, don’t sell yourself under worth. I’ve seen some of your designs, it’s art in it’s own.” I blushed slightly.  
  
“Okay, now show me that badboy-bracelet of yours.” He sat down and placed his foot on the table pulling up his jeans so I had access. Black and pretty much seamless, so no getting to it’s core without triggering alarm.  
  
“Alright, feet off the table, didn’t your mother teach you some manners? I can’t get it off without risking the FBI at your door, so I’m gonna do it old-school. You got a laptop?”  
  
“How can anything involving a laptop be considered old-school?” He commented while pulling out some metal block barely resembling a computer.  
  
“Are you serious? This isn’t old-school, this is stone-age.” I said, honest to god offended by the thing.  
  
“Well, you didn’t tell me you needed for me to provide high-tech shit to do this.”  
  
“I don’t.” I said, unlocking my phone and placing it on the table. “I just need your keypad. My fingers cramp when I do this on a screen that small.”  
  
“Okay?” He said, clearly not following.  
  
“JARVIS? Give me a list of the signals you can pick up around us.”  
  
**‘Of course, Sir.’** JARVIS answered, projecting blue holographs into the air above my phone.  
  
“Who is that?” Neal asked a little nervous.  
  
“That’s JARVIS.” I said, swiping out any wifi signals. “He’s not a real people. He’s my AI, Just A Rather Very Intelligent System, JARVIS. My best buddy and partner in crime, you know. He’s the one that caught you, by the way.” I remarked working away.  
  
“Caught me?”  
  
“Yeah. When you stole from my family. That painting, the one with I think there were roses on it? Don’t know, don’t care. JARVIS caught you.”  
  
“But the police never found out it was me.”  
  
“Well no, JARVIS alerted me, and I didn’t tell. I think I wasn’t even asked. How did you think I knew you? And it was only a painting anyway. JARVIS is my AI, Howard doesn’t know about him, he only responds to me, it’s what he’s supposed to do. And at that point he was still young. It’s been what? Six years? JARVIS was a child then. Literally too young to call the police on his own. He’s perfectly sentient now, so don’t steal from me, he will notice. And he’s a little shit. Constantly nagging, about morals and safety and something about food or sleep. Don’t remember.”  
  
**‘And that’s why I am constantly nagging, Sir. Maybe Mr. Caffrey could be troubled for something to eat or drink.’** JARVIS commented. And that had me whirling towards Neal.  
  
“Coffee?” I asked with my best puppy eyes. He laughed.  
  
“You keep looking at me like that and I will bring it in a dog bowl.”  
  
“But you will bring it?” I insisted.  
  
“Yeah. And food too, since your computer thinks you need it. Quite frankly I agree with him, you’re not eating enough, are you?” His smile had turned into a slight frown while he mustered me closely.  
  
“Stop nagging.” I waved a hand dismissively in his direction, already turned to typing again. The smell of hot coffee had me looking up a few minutes later. I noticed a cup of the holy brew – not a bowl – and some sandwiches beside me. I gulped down half of the cup in one go. God, I missed coffee.  
  
“That was scolding hot.” Neal commented somewhere behind me.  
  
“Yeah? Didn’t notice. It’s coffee. It’s always awesome. Italian roast?”  
  
“You are such a weird kid.” Neal laughed softly. Guess I was right.  
  
“I just like coffee. Don’t get it that often anymore. Can’t afford it.”  
  
“Talking about affording, you gonna eat those sandwiches, too? Because if you can’t afford food that is something you should talk to a social worker about and if this is a developing eating disorder you should talk to a psychologist about it.”  
  
“Neither. Or well, not exactly. Just my share of food is better spent on other things.”  
  
“Your share of food is best spent on you, Anthony. Keep going like that and you won’t be able to walk up the stairs to your apartment.” I rolled my eyes, pausing the typing for a second.  
  
“It’s not that bad.”  
  
“You looked into a mirror lately?”  
  
“I’m okay.”  
  
“How can the money possibly be that tight? You are Tony Stark after all, can’t tell me you didn’t take those funds set up for you and your siblings.”  
  
“Could only get to the college funds. If I took it all, Howard may’ve been able to trace us. And money isn’t that tight. I can go a few days without food, it’s no big deal.”  
  
“I literally see this blowing up on you right now. At least eat now and you know, even though you might not want to make contact with a criminal or his FBI connections, you could come here for at least a meal a week.” Wow, even the thief got motherly on me.  
  
“I don’t need your pity.”  
  
“It’s not. It’s concern, but I get that you don’t want it. Just please eat now, June made them extra for you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would you?” Sighing I grabbed a piece and shoved it into my mouth.  
  
“Fine, I’m eating.” I mumbled. Grinning when he made a disgusted sound at me.  
  
“How long will you need?” Definitely not long enough to warrant a second cup of coffee. Sadly. This was easy as fuck. Much less entertaining than I thought. I was switching out the signal of the pretty accessoire for another much more flexibly placed item.  
  
“Have you got a burner phone?” I asked.  
  
“Not here.”  
  
“Well, then I need till you get me one.”  
  
“Really? It’s that easy?”  
  
“Well, I’d love to say no, it’s never that easy, but really it is.”  
  
“Why don’t you take things to the dark side of the force? You’d be awesome. You could be a criminal mastermind, bathing in gold instead of skipping meals so your sister can get a new dress.”  
  
“Tell me again, why am I hacking into an FBI-issued-monitoring-device?”  
  
“Touché.”  
  
“I don’t really like criminals. No offense. Thieves are pretty cool, especially the skilled ones. But I think it’s easy to lose yourself in it. Not even the wealth. But the thrill, the deceptiveness, the danger, the game of it. I want to be a role model and I’m doing bad enough as it is. Don’t need to add a criminal career to it.”  
  
“You’re right a good father can make an impact. I think you’re doing fine.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Okay, so I’m gonna go get that phone and you, well, just make yourself comfortable.”   
Once he was gone, I allowed myself to slow down. Well not the typing, but my thoughts. I dropped the lager than life attitude. It was an empty façade now anyways, no one bought it anymore. I didn’t look like I was struggling for money. I was still wearing designer jeans and expensive leather jackets. We took everything we could carry. For me that meant, my phone, clothes, money, moms photo album, my crappy fake I.D. and everything I was wearing. It were the only things I really needed. But Neal was right, I had lost weight. My clothes were just this side of too big and a part of me was okay with that, pleased even.   
It was proof that I was able to put their needs above mine. Bizarre as it was it felt like proof that I was taking care of them and that was indeed dangerously close to a full blown eating disorder. Maybe Neal was right, I couldn’t afford to lose my life to mental health problems. Hell I was cutting already, and I did know that was not a wise thing to do, but it helped and wasn’t at particular high risk of being noticed, so devil may care. But food-issues would result in insomnia, energy-loss, a weak immune system. So maybe I could spend some money on eating, or I could look for some charity thingy that gives out food. Yeah, I would do that and even if food tasted like ash and guilt these days I would eat it.  
  
Once I was done with the code, I ate all of the sandwiches and they truly were delicious and not bought by me, so actually rather easy to eat. I let my head sink onto the table and closed my eyes. I tried calculating the costs for next month and what I earned and how much I needed and if there was the possibility of buying parts for a laptop. Sophia’s birthday was coming up and she needed one for college. I was tired after last night. I had spent most of it out on the streets and it started to take a toll on me. Before, I had stayed up for days at a time, but lately I fought to keep my eyes open. I would take tonight off. I payed for the new I.D. in work, that was a fortunate turn of things.   
It was illegal, FBI’d be pissed if they ever found out. But Neal wouldn’t rat me out and nobody could trace the code back to me. Neal wouldn’t even use it to escape. He secretly liked working with the FBI. So no touching the college funds. But I still needed to build up some reserves. Once Sophia was at Julliard she would need to spent all her time on her studies so I’d pay her upkeep, her scholarship covered living and tuition fees, so about $500 per month. For food and fun and books. And I would need daycare for the kids, at least a few days a week. And there was still trying to get therapy for Sophia and trying to save enough to buy a car or maybe a bike. In the end there were always reasons to keep hooking up with strangers. Kenan was still needed. I heard the door open.  
  
“Took you long enough.”  
  
“It wasn’t that long.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever, man. Just give it to me.” He threw me a cheap flip phone and I was disgusted only touching it. That these things were still in production was testimony of the world’s decay. I hooked it up to the laptop and installed the programming.  
  
“Via the phone you can switch out the signaling of your anklet. This phone will send the gps signal instead, so make sure it’s charged once you switch it. Don’t cut that thing off tough, it would still trigger an alarm and make all my hard work blow up on you. The program is pretty self-explanatory. Click connect to hide where you’re going, once you’re okay again switch back by disconnecting. No connecting or disconnecting when you’re not in the same place as the phone it’s a fail safe for spontaneous cases of stupidity. Keep that in mind. Any questions?” I handed him the phone. He looked a little dumbfounded.  
  
“Ahm, no?”  
  
“Good. I need to go, got kids at home, you know. If there’s any trouble with the programming give me a call. I consider payment settled with that?” I rose from my seat.  
  
“I need a thousand for material costs. Cash.”  
  
“Come on man. That’s not fair. I put a lot to risk with doing this for you.”  
  
“And I don’t charge you for my work or the risk I’m taking. I just need the materials covered. I can’t exactly touch my funds without raising suspicions and we both don’t need any extra attention.” $1000 that was almost the entire wage I got for a month of working in the shop and it wasn’t granted I got to keep that job. Maybe James would get tired of me eventually and kick me out.  
  
“I can’t do a thousand bucks, Neal. That’s insane. How much can some paper and paints possibly cost? I can do 500.”  
  
“And that’s why I am the forger and you are the hacker. 750.” He was serious. I sighed. No taking tonight off. I had made 510$ last night. I was at 1,760$ currently. But I needed to keep in mind that there would be no payment at the end of the month, since I got an imprest.  
  
“I hate my life. Fine. 750$. I’ll bring it by on Monday morning. How fast can you do it?”  
  
“End of next week, I’ll deliver myself, your apartment is within range. I still have her photo from the last time.”  
  
“Alright. See ya on Monday, be awake early.” I said not waiting for a reply before heading out the door. I thought I heard a soft-spoken “Be safe.” But I could have imagined it.  
  
  
At home I found everyone piled on the queen size in my room, watching frozen on the laptop. It was a sweet image and my fingers itched for a camera.  
“You were gone a while.” Sophia remarked arranging Adonia on her lap so I could squeeze in with them.  
  
“Yeah. I had something to do.”  
  
“Did it go well?”  
  
“Yeah. It was fine. You’ll get a new I.D. end of next week.” I said.  
  
“Why do you need a new I.D.?” Marcy asked, temporarily distracted from the screen.  
  
“Because I lost my old one, sweetheart. So Tony and got me a new one, because he’s awesome like that.” She smiled.  
  
“Awesome!” Marcy shouted and threw herself onto me. I pretended to be smashed by her and she giggled, before sitting up and snuggling against my chest.  
  
“Didn’t you say you went to meet a friend?” Luca inquired.  
  
“Yeah. He can get the new I.D. for me.”  
  
“So does he work with the city circle?”  
  
“City council, dear. And no, not exactly.” I sent Sophia a somewhat helpless look.  
  
“What does he do then?” Rule Nr. 1 considering infants, don’t tell them you did something illegal.  
  
“He’s ahm he’s an artist.”  
  
“Why can an artist get an I.D. and you don’t?” Marcy asked. Damn it. Couldn’t they just watch the fucking movie?  
  
“Because, he knows someone who works with the city council.” I said and that wasn’t even an outright lie.  
  
“Can I meet him?” Luca asked.  
  
“No.” I refused resolutely.  
  
“But he’s an artist!” He pouted. Urghhh.  
  
“Okay, look I will look into finding you some art lessons would that be an astute substitute for meeting an artist?”  
  
“Yes!” He cried smiling wildly flinging himself on top of us. And finally we could watch the movie in peace. It felt nice just relaxing and soon I was asleep only waking up when Sophia put a sleeping Adonia to bed, the twins, too, out like a light on top of me. When I moved they woke.  
“Why don’t you go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas, huh?” I asked and Marcy nodded sleepily stringing her brother along. Once they were ready I went into their room.  
  
“Marcy, would please go wait with your sister for a moment?” She sent me a confused look but went without comment.  
  
“What?” Luca asked defiantly when I sat down facing him.  
  
“I just wanted to talk to you, you know, man to man.”  
  
“About what?” He asked, eyes narrowed.  
  
“Sophia told me what happened the other day with William’s brother. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Marcy had told me some things already, too. Even that the kids were making fun of him for having only a dad and no mom. They told him she had left him alone because he was so stupid. It made me furious just thinking about that.  
  
“Ugh.” He buried his face in his pillows.  
  
“Is that a yes?” I asked. He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like words.  
  
“What was that? I can’t understand when you are only talking to your pillow.”  
  
“The other kids just don’t like me.”  
  
“Why do you think that?” He shrugged.  
  
“They nevah wanna play when I ask ‘em.” He mumbled quietly.  
  
“Hey, no slurring your words. And what if they just don’t feel like playing right now?”  
  
“They call me names, too. They say I’m stupid. Say don’t wanna play with a dummy.” He admitted.  
  
“Well, that is not a nice thing to say. And why do they say that?” I asked.  
  
“Dunno.” He hung his head, short black strands falling into his eyes. “Maybe, I really am a dummy.”  
  
“No you are not.” I said firmly. “Luca, look at me.” He rose his eyes to mine. “You are not stupid. You are very intelligent and talented, never let them tell you otherwise.”  
  
“But what if they’re right? What I really am stupid? Maybe all the intelligence went to you and Sophia and Marcy and there was no intelligence left for me? What if I’m the only stupid one in this family?” He said with tears in his eyes.  
  
“Baby, you aren’t! I am a genius and I know you are, too, you hear me? Besides intelligence doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. We all got equal, but we are all different and have different talents, you know? Like how Sophia is really good at music, but so bad at writing, and I like to build things.”  
  
“You’re a mechanic.” He said proudly. And I smiled.  
  
“Yeah I am. Because I am good at building and fixing things. And Sophia is a musician because it sounds so beautiful when she plays the piano. And I know you are good at art, so maybe you will be an artist one day. You are perfect the way you are, Luca. Don’t think bad about yourself just because others try and make you do it.”  
  
“But why won’t they like me?” He asked and he reminded me so painfully of a younger version of myself.  
  
“Because sometimes when you know something others your age don’t they get jealous and being jealous feels very bad. And because of that they get mean and try to make you bad so they don’t have to be jealous anymore.”  
  
“Was that why they were mean when I said that snowflakes looked different?” He asked.  
  
“I don’t know. Tell me what happened.”  
  
“For crafting we made these Christmas decorations. We had to fold a piece of paper four times and then cut out some pieces at the edges and they said we were making snowflakes, but I know snowflakes look different, I looked at the pictures on your laptop and I know it weren’t snowflakes. But even Mrs. Jackson didn’t know that they weren’t snowflakes and told me to just keep on cutting out snowflakes. But if they wanted snowflakes they were doing it wrong and I got angry and very loud and I know I shouldn’t but it weren’t snowflakes and then Mrs. Jackson put me into time-out and the other kids laughed at me for it. Were they jealous?”  
  
“No, buddy, they weren’t jealous. Okay first. You’re right it doesn’t really look like snowflakes, but it is very difficult to make paper look like real snowflakes, you know? And the cut papers that you made there is nothing they really do look like, is there?” He shook his head. “So if you want to tell someone what you made, people just say you cut out snowflakes because everyone will know what you mean when you say that. It’s not a really accurate name, but it’s its name anyway. That is why they said they were making snowflakes, alright?” He nodded.  
  
“Now why were they mean when you pointed out it didn’t look like snowflakes. They probably really tried to make it look like snowflakes.”  
  
“But they didn’t.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. But still. Imagine when you show me a picture you drew and it’s of Sophia and me and I say that looks nothing like me. How do you feel?”  
  
“Sad.”  
  
“And why would you feel sad? I just pointed out that it didn’t look like me.”  
  
“But I really tried to make it look like you!”  
  
“That’s right. You gave it your all and put in effort to make it good. That’s why it hurts when someone tells you that effort isn’t good enough.”  
  
“And I told them it didn’t look like snowflakes, but they wanted it to look like snowflakes.”  
  
“That’s right. They were hurt because you said that and when people are hurt they get mad at you for hurting them and are mean to you because you were mean to them first, even though you didn’t want to be.”  
  
“So I should have lied?” Ah fuck. I hated raising smart children.  
  
“You could have just said nothing, or if somebody asked you what you thought then yes you can lie, so you don’t hurt them. You shouldn’t do it often, but sometimes when the truth would only hurt people and do no good a little white lie is okay.”  
  
“What is a white lie?”  
  
“A white lie is a lie that you tell when you want to protect somebody from the hurtful truth instead of fool someone like you do with a normal lie.”  
  
“And if I just don’t point it out, they will like me.”  
  
“Well, if you don’t point out others mistakes you don’t give them a reason to be mean to you.”  
  
“No pointing out other’s mistakes, because that hurts them and I don’t want to hurt people.”  
  
“You got it. And I will talk to Mrs. Jackson on Monday, okay? She can talk to the other kids and tell them not to be mean.”  
  
“Okay.” Luca said smiling unsure.  
  
“Hey, tomorrow it’s supposed to be nice. You wanna go out to the park?”  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
“Alright. Now, I’m gonna get your sister and then lights out.” I ruffled his hair and he smiled at me.  
  
“I love you, Tony.” I smiled back.  
  
“I love you, too, buddy.”  
I retrieved Marcy from Sophia where they were apparently girl talking and put them to bed before getting ready for my night job. Sophia looked unhappy while she was watching on how I applied mascara and eyeliner and squeezed into my tight jeans, but didn’t actually say anything, before I headed out.  
  


The kids were awake at the nick of dawn. Two hours after I had gone to bed in first place. And they were especially hyper, today. They wanted to head out immediately, I could barely convince them to have breakfast first.  
At the playground Sophia told me to relax, she would keep watch and so I did.  
  
I leaned back against the tree, closing my eyes for a second. I trusted them to be relatively careful and there were some other parents or nannies around. So I could close my eyes for just a second. A tiny moment. Just… Suddenly the promising sunshine got darker and I opened my eyes again. Just to _almost_ jump when there was a man in front of me. Blond, bulky, big. Like several inches taller than me and twice as wide. Three times my weight in muscle mass probably. Damn that guy could bench press me. He was fairly attractive and maybe I would have flirted if it weren’t for the carefully not concealed scowl on his face.  
  
“I don’t think you belong here, son.” He said. Excuse me?  
  
“I’m not your son, pal. Last time I checked this was a public place, so either leave or leave me alone.” Why did people always try to pick fights with me, huh? Was there a sign over my head “Please bother me”? I was tired and I wanted to have a somewhat nice afternoon with my family. But no. Life hated me, because by the way his scowl settled into a grim face, I gave the wrong answer.  
  
“Well, even though this is a public place, this is meant as a safe place for children to play. I’d appreciate it if you’d left and cure your hangover elsewhere. Now.” Oh my gosh. That guy pissed me off.  
  
“A safe place? And I am what? A child molester?” He opened his mouth, but I cut in. “No. Spare me. Listen up, I’m not gonna leave and you can’t force me to. And it’s not your place either. I don’t recall you playing with any of the children here, so for all I know you are the child molester.”  
  
“Son, I’m with CPS and it’s my job to protect innocent children from guys like you. So I’m asking again, please leave.” CPS? Are fucking kidding me? I pulled my sunglasses down harshly and took a step towards him in anger. I had to lift my head, to look him in the eyes, because we were kinda real close. And not in the sexy way.  
  
“Call me son again and I will make you regret it.” There was a faint smirk playing around his lips.  
  
“I’ll have you know, that I used to be an Army Captain. You can’t take it up with me.”  
  
“Used to be, huh? Dishonorably discharged? Because buddy, I’m not scared of you. Go ahead try your worst, but you will be down and you will be sued for attacking a minor.” Technically that was not a lie. First, I was pretty confident that I could take him down. I was a Stark. I was trained to protect myself. And I actually was 17. It was not the age I currently pretended to be, but I still looked it. So why not play that card. If he really was with CPS he couldn’t afford to be charged. He looked slightly surprised and a hell of a lot pissed, but in that moment his phone rang and he stepped away from me.  
  
“I see you here again, I’ll call the cops to escort you home, _minor_.” He said, before picking up and walking away. Gosh, really? I stayed anyways, of course I did. Around noon we ate the sandwiches I had packed. Sophia begged me for ice-cream after and it was sunny and we all had fun so yes, we got ice cream.  
When the kids got tired in the afternoon we headed home. I was a little dizzy with fatigue and I guess Sophia noticed.  
  
“Catch some sleep, Tony. I’m babysitting today. You are getting an afternoon off, okay?” And so I went to sleep. I woke late pulled on my clothes and went roaming the streets again.  
  


When I made my way to Caffrey’s – or June’s I guess –  at 5 o’clock in the morning I was shaky and jumping at shadows. Half of the way I considered turning around and bringing the money by at some other time, the other half of the way I wanted to run just so I’d get there faster, but that would look strange. I didn’t make a lot of money tonight. $200 was below average. As Sundays went it sure was a lazy one and still I couldn’t shake the image of one of the clients. He was taller than me – which not an accomplishment – but he was bald and unpleasant. I was used to insults and degrading. I didn’t care – or pretend to anyway – as long as I was still payed. But he got under my skin. He was rough, and the similarities got me wired.  
  
Neal opened the door in casual clothing and I envied him for the jogging pants. He ran a hand through his messy hair and stopped short just staring at me. I knew what a sight I probably was. My hair styled in carefully unarranged spikes, mascara and eyeliner probably smeared under my eyes now and highlighter making my cheekbones a little more noticeable. In dark blue skin tight jeans hanging low, a black tee and a worn black leather jacket. My lips red and swollen, I was pretty sure there were bruises forming at the beginning of my throat.  
  
“Wow.” He got out once he got ahold of himself. I held out the money in an envelope wordlessly. He took it hesitantly, his eyes not leaving my face.  
“Hey, are you okay?” He asked reaching to grab my shoulder, but I stepped back hastily.  
  
“Don’t touch me.” I hissed. And it wasn’t fair, because I knew he didn’t do it with any intent, but out of worry and he wouldn’t hurt me. And still the past four nights had me on the verge of a panic attack, I didn’t want him to touch me. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
“Okay, I won’t touch you. Do you want to come in? Have a cup of coffee, warm up a little?” Walking all the way home in the dark seemed unappealing and – I was ashamed to admit – scary. Coffee sounded heavenly. Especially that Italian blend I knew he fancied, but still.  
  
“Thanks. But I need to get the kids ready for the day and I need to talk to Luca’s kindergarten teacher.”  
  
“Are you sure you wanna walk? I could call you a cab.” He said his expression carefully blank.  
  
“It’s fine.” I said, already turning away.  
  
“Stay. I’ll pay. I won’t let you walk, you’re shaking. Come in.” He urged and held the door open wide. And indeed my hands were trembling when I held them out to check. I didn’t really want to walk. I hated hand-outs, but I hated panic attacks more. So I nodded softly and hugged my arms around my upper body. I felt small and fragile. Gosh I hated being down like that. He led me to the comfy looking couch and signaled me to sit. He went into the kitchen pulling out his phone.   
  
He called a taxi and he spoke softly so I didn’t hear him explicitly requesting a female driver even tough it would take longer and was charged extra. I heard him anyway and a part of me despised him for thinking I was that weak, but a bigger part of me was simply glad I hadn’t to get in a car alone with another man. It was a kind and incredibly attentive thing to do. I huddled in the corner of the couch barely noticing when a steaming cup was placed into my ice-cold fingers. I was lost in my empty mind. The warmth slowly seeping in brought me back blinking against the soft light of a few lamps over the room. Neal sat in an armchair next to me, keeping watch of my reactions.  
  
“You back with me?” He asked. I nodded and rose the cup to take a sip and the warm brew flowing down my throat felt like life coming back to me.  
  
“You had me worried there for a second, you know.”  
  
“Rough night.” I said for an explanation.  
  
“Did somebody hurt you last night?” That was awfully direct, but I appreciated him not beating around the bush.  
  
“No.”  
  
“But somebody did.” I let silence be my answer. I could almost feel him connecting the dots in his head and I didn’t really care. We sat in silence till the doorbell rang again. He paid the driver and told her my address. He held the door open for me.  
  
“Thanks.” I said looking him in the eyes, he knew I meant more than the door.  
  
“If you need help, give me a call, okay? I do have that FBI Agent that doesn’t want to admit I’m his best friend, you know?” I smiled softly and he closed the door for me, ever the gentleman.  
  
  
After my routine of throwing up, showering and a new set of cuts along my thigh I felt vaguely human again and went to prepare breakfast and wake the kids. I let Sophia sleep in a little, as I would take the twins to kindergarten today.  
  
“Morning.” She said once she stepped into the kitchen, the twins already seated at the table munching on their cereals.  
  
“Good morning. Got anything important today?”  
  
“Nah. Boring as ever. I got an English test on Friday, though.”  
  
“Do you need help studying?”  
  
“I got it, thanks.”  
  
“Okay.” I placed a cup of coffee and toast with peanut butter and honey in front of her. “Do you get an extended time frame?” I asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Should I talk to your teacher? You know you could insist on it.” Students with learning disabilities had a right at extended time for tests in subjects that were affected. I made sure of that when I picked her school.  
  
“No it’s fine. I already talked to him and he’s rating spelling mistakes only half than ordinary, instead of giving me more time. It’s better that way, so no one needs to know about my dyslexia, you know.”  
  
“You don’t need to be ashamed for that, you know that, right?”  
  
“Yeah, Tony, I do. I just don’t want everybody to know.” She rolled her eyes and I kissed the top of her head.  
  
“Okay. Whatever you say.” I said, before waking up Adonia, getting her dressed and sitting her at the table.  
  
“Go pack your bags.” I told them, once the twins were finished and Adonia settled in her high chair eating the fruit I had precut. A set of arms surrounded me and Sophia leaned her head against my shoulders, while I was washing up.  
  
“I found a counselor.” I felt her head rising.  
  
“A counselor?” Her tone was distant.  
  
“Yeah. Look, I know you’re strong and you can deal with what happened by yourself, but you don’t have to, is what I say. There are professionals that can help you with that, they were trained for it. And they do know better how to deal with trauma than any of us.”  
  
“I know, Tony, but that’s… I don’t know. You think I need therapy?” She sounded so unsure and vulnerable. I hated how she relied entirely on my judgement, as if she didn’t trust her own anymore. And that was why I was suggesting it in the first place.  
  
“You … I do.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I looked around and talked to a few counselors that specialized in sexual abuse. Her name is Lindsey Turner, her office is in woodhaven. She seemed nice, younger than most. I think you would get along.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be her, you can look for yourself. There are a few contacts I found that may be working. Or you can meet or call her first. Just find somebody you are comfortable with.”  
  
“I’ll meet with her. Lindsey, was it? You know me better than anyone, if you think we will get along, it's worth meeting her. Lindsey sounds fine.” Relief hit me and made some of the tension vanish. Dr. Turner was friendly and open-minded, I was glad Sophia didn’t fight it. Maybe she knew she wasn’t handling everything that great. I knew there was a lot of pain she hid from me.  
  
“You want me to make an appointment? Or do you want to call yourself?”  
  
“Would you?”  
  
“Of course.” She let her head rest on my back again, arms squeezing slightly tighter.  
  
“Thanks.” She whispered.  
  
“Daddy?” I straightened up and Sophia stepped away from me.  
  
“Yeah, sweetheart?”  
  
“Wan’ down.” She said. She had finished the fruit, so I lifted her out of the chair and helped her wash her hands.  
  
“Luca, Marcy are you guys ready?” I called, packing up the last of Adonia’s things, so I could just stop by and grab it later before riding to work with her. The two emerged of their room giggling and I smiled. It was good to see them happy.  
  
Luca got more solemn the closer we got to kindergarten and it was heartbreaking to see. I hated that he was bullied at that a young age. I didn’t go through that being home schooled till I was seven. I’d love to give him that possibility but that was something I really couldn’t afford and I wanted him to have a chance at a normal social development. God knew, I had payed for not having it.  
Their kindergarten teacher Mrs. Jackson met us at the foyer-ish cloakroom and Marcy just sent me a quick wave and was off. Luca lingered a little, waiting for me to either let him stay with me or told him to go. I put Adonia on the ground.  
  
“Mrs. Jackson.” I said as a greeting.  
  
“Mr. Russo. It’s a pleasure to see you.”  
  
“We both know why I’m here, so no it really isn’t a pleasure, Mrs. Jackson.” Adonia giggled a little at my tone of voice. She knew I only used it when I was _discussing_ some things. It drew Mrs. Jackson’s attention and she crouched down in front of her.  
  
“Your brother takes you to the playroom, sweetie.” She decided at her and received an exceptionally dark look, that I was unreasonable proud of her for.  
  
“She hates people lowering themselves to talk with her, she can hear you from up here perfectly well.” I informed her coldly. There was something about this woman that made me wanna punch her. I think Adonia felt that, too.  
  
“Well, maybe you want to tell her brother to take her to the play area. I don’t think they need to stand here and get bored while we talk." A part of me wanted to tell her to fuck off, they were my kids and I decided what I wanted them to do, but I might cuss during this conversation so I better had them out of hearing-range.  
  
“Ciccina, Daddy needs you to go with your brother and play for a while, okay? I’ll come get you when we’re finished.” I glanced at Luca and he nodded, putting his hand out for Adonia to take.  
  
“G’own up talk?” She asked. I nodded with a conspiratorial smile.  
  
“Grown up talk.” She nodded and took Luca’s hand heading off towards the community room.  
  
“Alright, I think I know why you are here, Mr. Russo, but maybe you could tell me, so we are all on the same page.”  
  
“Sure. I’m here because my son is bullied and obviously the adult in that room – namely you – does nothing to stop that.”  
  
“Well, I can understand that you are worried. Being a father so young isn’t always easy and I know Luca doesn’t like the interaction here in the group but I wouldn’t say he was bullied.” She said with a condescending smile.  
  
“He and Marciana told me the other kids are refusing to play with him, avoiding him, calling him bad names, calling him stupid and making fun of him. Four weeks ago he came home with an cut up back pack and I do know that Luca would not do that. His last back pack he lost a second grader, that was picking up his brother at this place. He told me William's brother Jason waited up on him with a few of his friends shoved him around and took his bag. Do you happen to know anything about that?” Her smile turned sour.  
  
“No, I don’t and I truly can’t believe something like that occurred.”  
  
“Well, than both my kids and my sister must have imagined it, hard to believe considering my sister berated the boys for it when she came to pick them up. But let’s head on. I won’t stand for my boy being discriminated for having lost his mother to an untimely death or being called stupid. And I expect you to try everything in your power to discourage that kind of behavior.” I demanded.  
  
“See, it’s not uncommon for children with especially young parents to miss a certain intellectual input at home. That is nothing very problematic, my dear, but the other kids will ultimately notice that and like children are they will voice it out loud.”  
  
“Firstly, lady, I am not your dear. Please refrain from calling me any of your ridiculous pet names, you feel entitled of using out of a quite concerning level of disdain for parents under the age of 25. I’ll have you know I graduated MIT last year, while my sister is leaving for Julliard this summer, my children are definitely not missing an - how’d you put it? -  intellectual input _at home_.” I said in a tone that made clear where I thought they were missing mentioned input.  
  
“Now, there is a specific occurrence I would like to discuss.  The kids told me of a crafting project for Christmas, they should cut out snowflakes and as I see it Luca said that what they were producing were not actually snowflakes and started yelling after you told him that yes they were.”  
  
“That is correct.” She said tensely.  
  
“Now, I don’t presume to know what the kids in your group especially are able to do and I do know of the concept of crafting these decorations for winter and putting them in the windows. But I do know what an average three- to five-year-old is able to do. I am sure 95% of all the snowflakes put up in your community room are squares with spikes at the edges and the occasional vaguely triangular hole in the middle and they sure are a pretty decoration and a great accomplishment for a little child, but they do not come even close to resembling the image of the complicated crystallized form of a snowflake. Luca knows that and I know that and, Mrs. Jackson, as an average educated woman I must assume that you know that, too. So why would you first tell him that he was wrong, while obviously he was not and then put him into time out and exclude him from the group when he protests against something he knows to be false.” I was very pleased with the way her face twisted in anger while simultaneously trying to smile. Even though I wanted to laugh at her ridiculous face, I schooled my face into a stony mask of careful displeasure.  
  
“Those crafts are called snowflakes, that is what everybody knows them as –“  
  
“And that is what I explained to him when he told me. I told him that pointing out the mistakes others made, out of insufficient practice or ability was a rude thing to do. Now while I understand that you may not be used to managing highly intelligent children, I still don’t understand why you would resort to separating him from the other children and supporting them in their rejecting behavior.”  
  
“He was yelling and –“  
  
“Did he hurt anyone?”  
  
“No. I would’ve-“  
  
“Did he insult anyone?”  
  
“Well, no, but-“  
  
“Then how do you justify punishing him?”  
  
“He was yelling and disrupting the group!” She said almost shouting. Frustrated at the way I made her argumentation crumble.  
  
“Excuse me, as a qualified child care taker and trained kindergarten teacher, you are not able to quiet down a four-year-old child? I’ll be sure to mention that to your management when I next talk to her.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I am already in contact with her. Luca and Marciana will attend primary school next year. I don’t want to put them into a new environment now, considering they will only be there for a few months, but maybe I will have to. I hope I’ve made it clear that I expect professional behavior and an extraordinary effort to integrate Luca into the group. I have faith in your abilities.” I checked my watch. “Now, my time is up. I need to head to work. I hope our next meeting will indeed be pleasant. Have a good day, Mrs. Jackson.” I said with a sweet smile before heading towards the community room, leaving a dumbstruck Mrs. Jackson behind. _What a bitch_. Luca, Marciana and Adonia were surrounded by kids.

“Ciccina! Bambini!” I called out to them. Adonia and Luca went to me, while Marcy just waved a hand at me.  
  
“Grown up talk over?” Luca asked. I laughed.  
  
“Yeah. Grown up talk over. You seem pretty popular back there.” I said.  
  
“They think it’s cool that I’m a big brother.”  
  
“Well, it is very cool. I’m talking from experience.” I winked and he grinned.  
  
“Remember what I told you about pointing out mistakes?” I asked a little more serious. It was an important lection in life I had learned the hard way and much too late. I would explain the concept of criticism once he was older.  
  
“Yeah, _Dad_.” He sassed.  
  
“Okay, just checking. And if someone is mean to you, you tell, okay?”  
  
“Okay.” I leaned down.  
  
“Even if it is that annoying bitch of a teacher.” I whisper so only he would hear me. He giggled wildly and I put a finger to my lips in the ultimate sign of secrecy. He giggled some more and pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key. I laughed and ruffled his hair, before sending him off and picking up Adonia. I sent a red-faced Mrs. Jackson a superior smile on my way out.  
  


 

I locked my bike and went in. Natasha was already there and working through papers. She stood once she saw me coming in.  
  
“Tony. Welcome. Bucky will be out shortly and give you the tour.”  
  
“Hi, Natasha.”  
  
“And hello there, Adonia.” She said smiling kindly. I noticed that one corner of the room was now outfitted with soft pillows, blankets and toys. Even surrounded by bars on the two open sides, like a big playpen.  
  
“Wow. Look at that, baby.” I said pointing at the play area. I sat her down and she walked to it eagerly, already exploring everything. I felt a little guilty for them going to these lengths just for us.  
  
“It was in storage. Clint’s children were here a lot, we bought all of this for them and some customers that string their children along.” She said, reading my thoughts.  
  
“I see.” I said smiling. I put down Adonia’s bag and pulled out the books and her favorite stuffy.  
  
“In the bag are some pacifiers, drink and a blanket. If she gets hungry just go and get me. She isn’t really a fussy girl, but if there’s any trouble again just get me. She will tell you if she needs to go to the toilet, you can get me for that, too.”  
  
“No, that’s okay. I can help her with that. And I’m sure we will get along fine.” Natasha assured.  
  
“Hey, Tony.” I heard James voice and looked up at him.  
  
“Hi, James.”  
  
“Everything settled?” He asked.  
  
“Yeah just a second.” I went over to Adonia and crouched beside her. “Hey, Sweetie, do you remember Natasha from last time we’ve been here? She will take care of you today while daddy is working, okay? If you need anything or need to go potty just tell Natasha, alright?” Adonia nodded eagerly.  
  
“But don’t bother her too much, okay? She has got work to do, too.”  
  
“ ’Kay Daddy.” I straightened up again. “See you later, Sweetheart.” I said but she didn’t respond already engrossed with the new toys. I laughed softly and turned to James.  
  
“Okay. I’m ready.” He smiled back at me and led me into the workshop.  
  
“So, you see that whiteboard over there? It’s the ‘workboard’. It lists every car we currently take on, with the assignment to either me, Clint or you. When you get to it, you fill in the column ‘solve’ and write down what’s broken, the next column means replacement write yes or no, if you need new parts you write it down on the list right here, together with the car it is for. Next column is done/need help. Write ‘need help’ in red. If you get stuck on a something, ask or put that cry for help here and we will all try to work together. Column ‘hours’, put in how long it took you to fix the problem. I don’t make your wage dependent on that, it’s just a help for me to calculate work time and how many assignments I can take on at a time. Finally, the last column is a dead line, if there is one. If aa customer puts in a dead line, try and make it priority.” James explained.  
  
“Neat.” I remarked. It was a pretty good system. I noticed ten cars assigned to me.  
  
“Don’t feel pressured. You fixed 6 cars on almost half a work day. I just wanted to keep you busy today. When you’re done with them today, or tomorrow or are still waiting on parts come into my office and we will go through the bureaucracy of things. I’m gonna check the list for requested parts every night, place an order and let you know when they will arrive.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Clint will show you around the shop and how to sort through the storage. Any questions so far?”  
  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
  
“Perfect. So if there are any problems, just ask Clint or me or Natasha if it’s an administrative issue.”  
  
“Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks.”  
  
“One last thing. Lunch is at half past twelve. We’ve got a tradition of eating together, on a rotation system everyone of us takes kitchen duty, considering cooking and cleaning. The plan for that is in the kitchen. I’m sure Clint will show you. Before it’s you turn, you tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. Sometimes friends or family is joining us that’s cool with everyone, so if your kids or Sophia might want to come by some time, just so you know. Are you joining us today?” That was a sweet tradition.  
  
“Uhm, yeah sure, I’d like that.”  
  
“Great.” He smiled beautifully and something fluttered in my belly. With that smile etched into my brain the morning flew by with work and good company. James actually spent some time working on a car and he looked sexy with smudges of grease all over his body. Probably sexier than he should.  
  
  


Once it was time for food I stepped into the kitchen with Adonia placed on my hip. It was Clint’s turn and even though he swore to be a great chef, I just couldn’t picture him cooking. James was, though talking to a man I didn’t know, the first to notice me.  
“Tony! Come on in. We’ve got company.” He said with a slightly excited smile, I couldn’t help but return. I walked towards them and then James’ company turned to face me. Familiar blue eyes with blond hair and muscles for brain stared back at me. My jaw dropped a little. Was that?  
  
“Captain asshole.” I said aloud. The recognition was mutual as his previously friendly face darkened.  
  
“The creepy minor.”  
  
“Excuse me? I am the creepy one?” I spat out. James gaze was jumping between the two of us.  
  
“So I take it, you both already met.” He concluded carefully. So very carefully.  
  
“Yes we met. He’s the fucking asshole that..” CPS. The asshole was with the CPS. I turned to James with an incredulous look. “Did you call CPS on me?” James frowned.  
  
“No, of course not. Steve is my best friend. Wait, is that how you know each other? Was there an incident with the CPS?” James looked concerned.  
  
“No, there wasn’t, but maybe there should’ve been.” Captain Asshole, Steve, said. He seemed to be torn between anger and satisfaction. “People like you are always the same. Rich, Self-entitled, egocentric, arrogant bastards. Never had to work a day in your life. Why are you here huh? Did Daddy get fed up with your bad-boy attitude and cut you off? Now you have to actually do something to earn it? What do you even want with that boy, Buck? It’s not like he knows how to work.” Steve sent a furious look to a dumbstruck James. I was sure to be pale with rage.  
  
“Who do you think you are, asshole? What right do have talking like that?” Adonia giggled a little bit. Damn, he even made me swear in front of her. He walked towards me.  
  
“Someone like you shouldn’t be allowed to be around children!” I wasn’t scared of him, but I was pretty sure Adonia was upset about the yelling, so I stepped back.  
  
“You don’t get to criticize me in front of my daughter.” I growled furiously as she buried her face into my neck. Steve stopped short at that, a confused frown replacing the angry lines. I continued to warily monitor his movements.  
  
“Daughter? She’s your daughter? You can’t be any older than sixteen.”  
  
“Yes she’s my daughter and I am eighteen just so you know.”  
  
“I….what? You said you were a minor.”  
  
“Well, you threatened to beat me up!” I retorted. “Steve!” Bucky shouted in surprise. “And while I’m definitely able to take you on, that is something best not happening in front of children on a mother-effing playground.”  
  
“Stop! Both of you.” James stepped in between us. “What is going on here?” Natasha chimed in. I hadn’t even noticed her coming in.  
  
“Thanks, Natasha, for watching her, but I think I’ll take her home now. I like this job, James, I do, but I love my family more. Thanks for the invite, but I’ll eat at home for today, I’ll be back in an hour.” I said grabbing Adonias bag and leaving as fast as I could. I heard James calling after me. Before I stepped out on the street, I heard him bellowing at Steve. “What the fuck is wrong with you, punk?”  
  
  
When I got back after eating with my siblings and dropping Adonia off and worrying about Captain Asshole being fucking _CPS_. That could end very badly. And even if not, he was still James’ best friend. And I kinda wanted to be his boyfriend so I really needed to get on Steve’s good side right? Was that even still possible? I just went straight to work. James apologized for what his friend had said and told me that he wouldn’t be invited to lunch anymore if I didn’t want him there. That was pretty harsh. I told him not to worry. We would get along. Eventually. Maybe. Or not. Didn’t matter, really.  
So I just kept on working, after some time Clint joined me in the garage. He gave his best to entertain me while we worked on our cars. He cracked stupid jokes one after another. I would tease him for the especially bad one, but it was friendly banter. He told me about his kids Lila and Cooper and that baby number three was on the way. So I told him about Luca and Marcy and the time they first walked. Marcy was the first to take steps on her own, but then she fell and started crying, so Luca just stood up and toddled towards her to console her, as if he was doing it for years. Clint laughed at that and I did too. It felt good, sharing these memories with a possibly-soon-to-be friend. James joined us and threw in his own fair of childhood stories. He was funny and charming and maybe today wasn’t all that bad after all.

 

I was wrong. I opened the door and slammed it shut again right there. Erggghhhh. Steve was leaning in the doorway and now ringing the doorbell again. Steve, CPS Steve, James’ best friend. Ah, fuck. James’ best friend. I wanted to keep this job and I really really liked James, even if he was way out of my league, I still wanted to get along with his friends. Damned feelings.  
I opened the door again.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I want to apologize.”  
  
“James set you up on this.”  
  
“Well, yes. He told me your address and said ‘fix it’. But I am sorry. For accusing you. For jumping to conclusions. For insulting you. And for threatening you. I’m sorry. I was wrong and even if I would have been right it’s no excuse for threatening physical harm.” Steve couldn’t hide the wince as he said that.  
  
“Wow. Hurt much to get that out?”  
  
“No, not at all. I truly am sorry and I would have apologized even without Buck yelling at me.”  
  
“No, no, I meant the last part. About resorting to threats. You like getting into fights, Captain, don’t ya’?”  
  
“Ahh, not exactly, but I don’t run away from them either.”  
  
“Yeah, okay, got it. Now, see I don’t like fights, so…. I’d appreciate it if you’d left. Bye.” He pushed a foot subtly into the doorway, so I couldn’t close it on him.  
  
“Look. Bucky really cares for you and he likes you. He wants us to be friends or at least get along and honestly? I want that, too. I think we started all wrong and maybe if we talked and got to know each other, we may find us acceptable. I don’t want bad blood. Maybe we could start over?” I sighed.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I’m Steve Rogers.” He said, outstretching his hand. I took a deep breath and his hand in a firm grip.  
  
“Anthony Russo.” He smiled a little awkwardly.  
  
“If you got some time right now, we could I don’t know have a coffee, get to know each other.” He really did make an effort. He tried hard. Maybe I could, too. I checked my watch. Adonia was asleep already, but the twins still had some time to be up and I had a few hours before I had to get ready.  
  
“Alright. Come on in, I can’t leave right now.” I stepped aside and he came in hesitantly.  
“I take it the kids don’t bother you? My sister’s out so I gotta stay here.” He send me a hesitant smile.  
  
“No, of course not. I love children.” I led him towards the table in the kitchen and for the first time in four months I realized how small the apartment was, how cheap the furniture, how mismatched all around.  
  
“Just to be clear, this is not a scheme to decide if you’re gonna take my kids from me.” I phrased it as a statement but still it sounded unsure and I hated myself for that, because there really was no reason he could take them. Well besides the obvious ones.  
  
“No. Buck made it perfectly clear, that if your family were to be bothered by CPS he’d take it out in blood. And just because you are young doesn’t mean I would take her away from you, okay?”  
  
“Yeah sure.” What else could there be that may made me unfit to be a parent? No. Nothing I could think of. “Please have a seat. You’d like some tea?” I asked already putting some water on the stove.  
  
“Yeah, thank you.” He settled into one of the chairs at the side closer to me. The kitchen was the biggest room in the whole apartment. The table was big taking up a lot of space. Steve was glancing around. Rationally I knew he was just curious, but it felt judging.  
  
“Luca, Marcy? Come here, please. [Vieni qui per favore, abbiamo ospite]” Steve looked up slightly confused. The door to their room opened and tiny footsteps came closer.  
  
“Steve, this is Luca and Marciana.” Steve smiled friendly and sent a tiny wink.  
  
“Hello.” Marcy said, Luca just silently taxing Steve.  
  
“Kids, this is Steve. He’s a friend from .. ah from work.”  
  
“The friend you went to Saturday?” Marcy asked curiously. I wanted to deny but Luca beat me to it.  
  
“Don’t be silly, that was Neal.” Luca said in a slightly irritated voice.  
  
“Luca, be nice. But anyway you’re right, it – wait how do you know that? I didn’t tell you his name.” Lucas and Marcy’s eyes went wide in an instant.  
  
“So-“ Luca started but Marcy elbowed him and he broke off. I would have smiled at Marcy’s innocent poker face, but I knew better than to encourage behavior like that.  
  
“Sophia told you.” How the hell did Sophia know? Maybe she saw the contact in my phone. Marcy glared at her brother.  
  
“Don’ be mad. I was just so curios because you said he’s an artist.” Luca said. I crouched down in front of him and took his hands.  
  
“I’m not mad. I know you wanna meet him, but he’s bad influence, okay? I don’t want him around you. You two are enough of a terror as it is.” I remarked smiling and they giggled.  
  
“Yeah, of course you two would find that funny.” I sighed, ruffling his hair. “Okay, you both. You can go play again. Half an hour, then bed.” And with that Marcy took Luca’s hand and pulled him along. He sent a quick wave to Steve over his shoulder. I smiled after them for a second.  
  
“So it’s not just one kid.” Steve stated the obvious.  
  
“No, it’s three. Adonia, Luca and Marciana. The twins turned four half a year ago. My sister Sophia lives here, too.” I provided. I was still wary of him, but I had to try and play nice.  
  
“It’s a small apartment for a family of five.” I tried to get a grip on what he meant with that but his face carried no emotion.  
  
“Yeah, it is. But Sophia is leaving for Julliard this summer, so there will be a little more space.”  
  
“Julliard? That’s the MIT for music, right?” I laughed.  
  
“Yeah, you could put it that way, but never let a musician hear that.”  
  
“So is your sister older than you, or are you twins?” I looked at him in surprise.  
  
“No why’d you think that? She’s 15.” Now he looked surprised.  
  
“15? Isn’t that a little young for university?” Ahhh, right. This again.  
  
“Not that young. I went to MIT at 13.” I said and filled the boiling water into two cups.  
  
“Come again? I must’ve misheard you.”  
  
“No, it’s ah, how do I tell you, without making an egocentric, arrogant bastard out of me.” I said a little sharp, while setting the cups down on the table and taking a chair at the head of the table.  
  
“Okay, I deserved that one. But you’re not kidding. You went to college, no you went to MIT, at 13 years old?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s why I am actually able to work for James. I already earned degrees in mechanical engineering and stuff. It comes in handy, but mostly it’s a plague. Without wanting to sound self-entitled intelligence kinda runs in the family. It’s horrible trying to keep those kids entertained. And if they’re not entertained Marcy has developed a tendency towards dissecting any electrical device she can reach. So, just watch out for your phone.” Steve stared at me somewhat flashed. Like he’d just seen me for the first time.  
  
“Wow. That’s certainly something. That also explains how an 18-year-old can be the father to three kids. Luca and Marcy – they look a lot like you.” I guessed that was true, they both had dark hair and dark blue eyes. They got basically the same genes as mine. Steve let his gaze wander to the pictures all over the walls.   
  
“May I?” He asked pointing at them. “Yeah sure.” I said and continued sipping my still bland tea while he got up to get a better look at them. It was Sophia’s doing. She wanted this to be the home we never had so she got every photo she could find and put it up somewhere. There was even a few of my dad. None of mom. I had one, hidden in the drawer. I missed her dearly and Sophia had been even closer to her, so we both couldn’t really bare the few photos there were.  
  
“Is that you?” I twisted a bit to see which photo he was looking at and of course. It would be the one and only photo with I and Howard.  
  
“Yeah. That’s my father and I. I was, what? Five or six maybe.” It was a good picture. A good memory.  
  
“It was the first time I built an engine. Dad helped me with the heavy lifting and mom took a photo when both of us wouldn’t notice. She always wanted photos to be authentic.” It was a harsh contrast to what we were used to. Always posing and smiling for the media. Mom wanted the real life, the real us. So she always took pictures of us when we didn’t know, when our smiles were genuine and our hair outta place and our heads thrown back in laughter. Steve watched me.  
  
“You take after your father, don’t you?” He commented sitting back down  
  
“Gosh, I hope not.” I said before I could stop it. And then there was this look again. The too neutral to be neutral look on his face.   
  
“Did your father hurt you? Is that why you are living on your own?” Ahhhh. It was his CPS-Traumatized-Child-Face. Like, don’t scare him away with too many questions. But I didn’t care. My father, my whole past was not a big deal. It was strange if people never told you anything about themselves. As long as I didn’t lead to the name Stark, talking was fine. And my father never hurt me anyway, didn’t do much to stop it either, but I guess at least he didn’t hit me.  
  
“No. Never. But we didn’t have the best relationship. He worked a lot. Cared less. I wanted his approval. Settled for his attention, you know. Same old.” It was past us now.  
  
“That sucks.” Steve said. I could tell he was a very empathic guy. He was probably made for caring for kids.  
  
“Yeah, it does. Anyway, you said you used to be an Army Captain. Is that how you and James met?” He smiled. Probably thinking back.  
  
“Yes, but no. Bucky and I joined the Army together, we know each other for ages. We grew up together. He always had to pull me out of fights.”  
  
“That’s nice. Not the fighting. I mean having someone that can tell embarrassing stories of your childhood. It’s a privilege.”   
  
“Yeah, I guess it is. You got somebody like that?”  
  
“Nah. Not many kids can handle a genius child. I was a nerd and a smart ass and I was constantly at least three years younger. Intelligence is praised. Be clever, but please don’t have better grades than the rest, you know? It’s why Luca gets bullied in kindergarten. Never had many friends, myself. It made my sister and I very tight knit.”  
  
“I was always jealous of siblings. Don’t have any. It’s a special kind of bond isn’t it.”  
  
“Yeah, definitely. I’d do anything for her.”  
  
“Buck and Rebecca are the same. They don’t see each other often, but they are still real close.”  
  
“I didn’t know James had a sister.”  
  
“She’s a couple years younger. She went to boarding school in England, stays there for studying. His parents died too early, mine too. It’s harsh. Being on your own like that.”  
  
“Yeah. So you joined the army together, saved some lives and you decided enough fighting, let’s go protect kids?” He grinned at me.  
  
“I love kids. And I like protecting better than fighting. It was an opportunity after we left the army. Buck always had a thing for cars, learned to repair them while deployed. But I just like art. We never went to college, so CPS was a chance, I don’t regret taking it.”  
  
“Why did you leave the army in the first place?” He got serious.  
  
“It’s… not really my place to tell, but Buck got hurt, I’m sure you noticed.”  
  
“And that’s that? Just because.., okay no it is a pretty damn good reason to leave, but why did you go? You could have easily kept going.”  
  
“I considered, but we joined together. We were always together and while I could handle being separated from him, I didn’t want to trust somebody other than him to always have my back, you know? And it would have been hell, being away all the time.”  
  
“That’s true.”  
  
“Talking from experience?”  
  
“I got a friend in the air force. Rhodey’s awesome. Was my roommate back at MIT. I love him to death, but I don’t get to see him more than a few times a year. He’s Adonia’s godfather.” Because I organized the baptism. I wanted her to have someone she could rely on when worst came to the worst. Sophia was too young and Mom’s family all the way back in Italy. Howard wasn’t even there, he was too smashed with Bourbon and grief. Obadiah was there and – okay not going there.  
  
“A best friend is a gift from heaven.” Yeah. I had sent him a message, that we were running away. That he shouldn’t worry I’d call him when I was settled in. Last I heard was two months ago. I didn’t call and he got frantic. And I wanted to call him so bad, but the moment I talked to him, I would have to tell him what happened. _Everything_. And he would still be with me, but he would try to force me into therapy or some shit. But he would still be there. Maybe I should call him.  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
“Is.. is there a mother to your kids?” Steve asked carefully. I took a deep breath. Years had passed, and it still hurt like the first day, when mom died.  
  
“She died two … two years back. “  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“It was a car accident. Or well, she went into labor with Adonia. On the way to the hospital there was an accident. A drunk driver missed the red light. I was out of commission for two days. They did everything they could, but she didn’t make it.” I stood and opened one of the drawers.  
  
“That’s the first time I held Adonia.” I gave him the photo. I laid in a hospital bed, there was a big bruise all over the right side of my face and my wrist was bandaged. They had just told me that mom died, but that my sister did make it and that she would like to see her brother. I was crying because mom was gone and I was smiling because I held one of the three most beautiful girls in the world in my arms for the first time. And she looked so fucking much like mom. I had to blink against the tears.  
  
“What was her name?” Steve asked.  
  
“Maria.”  
  
“You truly loved her.” He said softly, grabbing my shoulder in solidarity.  
  
“With everything I had.” It was still so painful.   
  
“She’d be proud of you. For being the father that you are. “ I gave him a painfully vulnerable smile.  
  
“Not so sure about that.”  
  
“I am. I’ve seen a lot of shitty parents. You are not one of them. You are a great father. I can tell with the way their eyes shine when they talk to you and the way yours do when you are talking about them.” Oh wow.  
  
“That was sickeningly poetic.” I laughed and he laughed too.  
  
“Daddy?” Luca called. “Excuse me.” I said, before rising to check on them. They both sat on their beds, in pajama and all. So I guessed the half an hour was up.  
  
“I’ll be right there, okay?” I told them before returning to the kitchen, to find Steve already up and pulling on his jacket.  
  
“Thanks for the tea, Anthony. It was nice talking to you, but I guess you’ve got parenting duties to fulfill right now.” I was somewhat relieved. I didn’t want to outright kick him out. He actually was a nice guy.  
  
“Call me Tony. Everyone else does. I’m glad you came by.” I said awkwardly. Did I have to do something for goodbye. Like, we didn’t need to hug it out, did we? Steve walked towards the door and I followed him. Please, no hugging.  
  
“So, Tony. A last thing. Please don’t hurt him.” He said in a tone that meant, don’t break his heart. And, did that mean I had a chance?  
  
“He’s out of my league anyway.” I said. He smirked.  
  
“If I learned one thing about James Buchanan Barnes in my life, it’s that he’s in nobody’s league. But it hasn’t stopped him so far.” He said winking and then he was gone. Walking down the stairs without a further word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you so much for reading!  
> Please feel free to point out spelling mistakes and awkward grammatic.  
> I really tried, but english is not my first language and I kept writing this instead of sleeping, so...
> 
> Thanx you all! 
> 
> See ya, Leo


	3. Burn Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there,  
> sorry for the long wait  
> And I'm sorry for promising an update and then just.... not updating.  
> Life is shit and a friend lost the battle with cancer. We weren't all that close and it was kinda a relief in the end, but it still sucks and I didn't really think about this, but anyway
> 
> Here goes another chapter - it is somewhat longer than intended even with me fast forwarding things a little, i hope that makes up for the long wait.  
> Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Also: this does get a little darker and somewhat more detailed so be prepared and tread carefully
> 
> !!!!!!!  
> TW: Self-harm and depression - rather graphic  
> !!!!!!!

The next morning I was tired and while that was nothing special considering how I made money, I didn’t even get in those few hours of sleep I usually wrangle into the timeframe. But I was wired last night. Constantly thinking about James and what Steve had said and if maybe he could be interested? And then I felt sick because I had spent the whole night out fucking strangers while simultaneously mooning over my boss, who I lied to about like… everything. So no probably not a chance. And still I couldn’t shake it. His beautiful smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes. The way his hair was way too long and still looked that awesome. And his arm. Well arms. Plural. His flesh arm was pretty nice too, all muscular in the right places. But I was pretty sure I had a thing for that metal arm alone. Some weird engineering kink, I guessed. Maybe that was freaky. Would that freak him out? Like was that something only stalkers found cool? Anyway. I was tired, because my brain just wouldn’t shut up about that damned man. Discussing back and forth between asking him out or not, waiting to be asked out or shamelessly flirt. I could ruin everything with that. And what if he turned me down? He wasn’t the kind of guy that would throw me out for a come on, but things would definitely get awkward. I finally settled on procrastinating my internal debate, because I had to get up and make breakfast.  
And even though I was objectively exhausted I was floating on a high of hope. Which soon changed into fluttering butterflies the moment James smiled at me when I walked through the door. I felt my face splitting into an equally bright smile. Adonia was still settled on my hip, but it seemed as if James and I were the only ones in the room for a moment. I took in his dark silky hair flowing unfairly attractively around his face and the pronounced chin. Those sparkling blue eyes, mischief shining in them. I felt myself sinking into them, like falling into the ocean. Hard and fast.  
Natasha cleared her throat in way that sounded suspiciously like “Puppies”, but it brought us out of the trance. I set Adonia down and she ran over to her toys in the corner, as fast as possible for a two year old. Already in love with her new coloring book and therefore Natasha who had bought it. It was about robots.  
“Hi, Tony.” James said as I stepped a little closer. The bright smile had turned into an intense stare, that sent a shiver through me.  
“H-Hi.” I pressed out. And wanted to hit my head against the wall. ‘Hi’ – _smooth, Stark, very smooth indeed._  
“No, not again.” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. I just blinked feeling cold when the heat of James gaze left me.  
“Tony, Clint is already waiting on you, he can’t figure out what’s the problem with that Fiesta that came in yesterday. Bucky, I need to go over some things with you.” Nat sent him a look, that promised an uncomfortable conversation  
“Right! Sure…I’ll just, yeah I-I’ll go help Clint.” I all but ran into the garage. Gosh. _Get it together man!_

I was able to get lost in the work. Machines could do that to me. Calm me down again. I got lost in my own world with them. That’s why I jumped when James suddenly spoke.  
“Hey, Tony.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Are you free tonight? Like, can Sophia watch the kids?” Was that? Was James actually asking me out? Like right now? No, it couldn’t be, could it? Obviously my mouth didn’t get with the full shut down my brain was in and answered without my consent.  
“Yes! I mean yeah. I could put Sophia on babysitting-duty. Why do you ask?” It went ahead smiling broadly.  
“Well I was wondering if you’d like to come with to the bar?” He asked smiling back. The bar? Was that a place you took someone on a first date nowadays? Not that I had much experience in dating, but that seemed odd, considering I was 18 to him.  
“Sure I’ll bring my fake I.D.”  
“Oh. It’s a karaoke bar. You won’t be getting any alcohol on my watch, shortstack.” He smirked a little. Karaoke. Strange but kinda funny. So maybe more of a place to bring your date. I had a date with James. Oh my god. I had a date with James. I had a date with my boss. My boss. That was such a bad idea. What if things went wrong, would he kick me out? No he wasn’t that kind of guy. Maybe he'd be kinda awkward around me, but he would act entirely the 20th century gentleman he was and be all kinds of polite. Perhaps we could even stay friends. Not that I wanted this night to go wrong. No I really wanted this to work. And maybe it would, right? Right.  
“So you coming with us tonight, Tones?” Clint commented. _Wait, what?_ Where was James? Hadn’t he been there a second before. Was I lost in thought that long?  
“What?”  
“Tonight. To the bar. Smashin the stage, you know? You coming with us? Steve’ll be there, too but he won’t bring Peggy today so there won’t be any sappy lovebird tunes, don’t worry.” It was a group thing. Oh gosh, _of course_ it was a group thing. Not a date. And there went my good mood and dropped to freezing depths. Hell, what was I thinking? This was so embarrassing. Why did I think James would take me on a date, anyway? Me. Tony fucking Stark. Or well – Russo. Not fucking likely.  
“Bucky said you’re coming.”  
“Yeah, yeah sure. It’ll be fun.” I tried to play it cool, not letting my disappointment show. Yeah, fun.  
“Great! We meet up there at 8, I’ll text you the address.”  
“Yeah, thanks.” I sent him a wobbly smile before turning to work again.

I had pep talked me all evening. This was good. It wasn’t a date but it was still good, I was becoming part of their little group. Becoming friends with them and that was a good thing. Socializing was a thing I lacked practice in, so this was a good experience. They were already waiting outside when I came to the small cozy bar. Natasha embraced me and Clint pulled me into this weird half-bro-hug. They were talking and I nodded, but I didn’t really listen. I just took in James, that was standing there in ripped jeans, a dark red shirt and a black leather jacket, with his hair pulled into a stubby knot a few rebellious strands framing his face.  
“I’m glad you could make it.” James whispered, when we walked in his fingertips danced softly along my arm, almost accidentally, raising goose bumps everywhere they went. I couldn’t answer before Clint started talking.  
“Okay, Tony, so this is what we do. Steve usually goes first. Natasha rarely gets involved and we always pick fun songs. Nothing too depressing that’s not what we’re here for. All of us vote the wordt performance and whoever it was has to pay a round.” Oh. Pay. I really shouldn’t lose. But it sounded fun and surely they wouldn’t put me down on my first try, right? Right.  
Steve was adorable and pretty funny while actually not totally embarrassing. His ‘Don’t stop believin’’ interpretation wasn’t half bad. But the true comedy were the jokes and comments everyone around the table made, analyzing and criticizing his performance. With Steve, James was the harshest, he got a right to it earned through years of friendship. Natasha actually partook in the odd tradition and got on the stage. “He, Tony?” She said before standing.  
“Yeah?” Her pinching stare sent shivers of fear running through me  
“If you laugh, I will know and I will make your death very painful.” She meant it. But I grinned anyway.  
“It’s not really friendship until you get a death threat.” I said. She grinned back.  
“I think you need new friends, Tony.” Clint commented.  
“I got new friends. I got you guys!” I laughed and it felt true. I had found friends in this odd group. I laughed even more once I realized that Natasha had chosen Bang Bang by Nicki Minaj and she was good. She had a beautiful voice and had so much fun on stage it was contagious. By the time she was finished the whole audience was dancing. Clint followed up and entirely ruined it by picking ‘Henry the 8th ‘ – which was probably the only way to not disguise his missing talent. James was up next and our group cheered him up with a chorus of ‘Bucky! Bucky! Bucky!” I thought the whole room was staring at us, but I didn’t really care.  
“This is not really my style of music, but I’ve got company tonight that probably will appreciate my choice.” James said looking directly at me. The first guitar sound of shoot to thrill flooded in and he killed it. It was a much softer version, but it was amazing. Or maybe I was biased what with the way I was still hung up on the fact that he chose his song for me. The others entirely trashed him, but I was too distracted by the way his long hair and slight stubble looked in combination with that damned sexy leather jacket. I cheered the loudest and if the others smiled knowingly, well, I didn’t notice.  
And then it was my turn.  
“Hi there what’s your name?” The guy in the back greeted me, with a broad smile.  
“Tony.”  
“Hi, Tony. I’m Gary. Nice to meet you, what song would you like to sing?”  
“Uhm, do you guys have like … a guitar?” He put down his tablet, looked up and smirked.  
“Yes.” He grinned knowingly. “Yes, we do.”

There was mild applause when I walked up on the stage. I cleared my throat and tried to calm my racing heart.  
“So, I didn’t really come prepared. It’s been a while since I last held a guitar – please be patient - and I _would_ have gone with AC/DC but my friend obviously wanted to serenade me, so James – this one is for you.” I had practiced this song so many times with Sophia, I still knew the accords. And because Gary was a little shit he dimmed the lights and put a spotlight on me. For the dramatics.

“My tea's gone cold, I’m wondering why I got out of bed at all  
The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all  
And even if I could it'd all be grey, but your picture on my wall  
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

I drank too much last night, got bills to pay, my head just feels in pain  
I missed the bus and there'll be hell today, I'm late for work again  
And even if I'm there, they'll all imply that I might not last the day  
And then you call me and it's not so bad, it's not so bad

I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life  
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life  
Push the door, I'm home at last and I'm soaking through and through  
Then you handed me a towel and all I see is you  
And even if my house falls down now, I wouldn't have a clue  
Because you're near me and

I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life  
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life

I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life  
Oh just to be with you is having the best day of my life.”  
Halfway through I had closed my eyes. The tune had come easily. I just needed to think of Sophia, the kids, _James_ and I felt every word of the song. I was surprised by the standing ovations I got, mumbled a shy ‘thanks’ into the mic and fled into the comfort of the darkened corner. The spotlight always made me a little uncomfortable these days. That misfit band of people were still cheering when I sat back down next to James and I blushed.  
“Oh, stop it. It wasn’t that good.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got some voice to that tiny body of yours.” Clint said  
“I’m not tiny!” I protested.  
“You kinda are.” Steve affirmed.  
“Just because you are built like a tank or something.” I muttered.  
“That was incredible.” James said softly and I couldn’t help but smiling at the ground at his approval.  
“Don't.” he said touching my cheek, making me lift my face towards him.  
“Don't what?”  
“Don't hide your smile. It's beautiful.” And with that I was smiling again, butterflies running wild in my belly, at the way his fingers lingered on my face.  
“Voting!” Clint broke through the haze I was in and James dropped his hand. “Tony was best.” James said without missing a beat and he got the Looks – capital L – from everyone.  
“Yes, Bucky, your sweet darling was best, but we are voting the worst, remember?” Natasha said in a long-suffering voice and I was too busy blushing to get on with why she was calling me his darling. In the end Clint got voted worst, because even though the song choice had been entertaining, it was still not a good performance. They were all pretty tipsy except James and me. I was fine with that, I had enough booze in college to last me a life time and James wasn’t drinking much because I wasn’t. And that was so sweet. All of them were incredibly enjoyable and I ended up having so much fun, my cheeks hurt from laughing.  
James walked me home and all the way we were walking so close that our shoulders would bump together every other step and it was great. We walked in silence but it was so comfortable, I was sad when we arrived at my apartment.  
“So..” I said a little awkward, not knowing what to do, but not ready to let him go either.  
“Tonight was great.” He said looking into my eyes.  
“It was.” I bit my lip, smart words leaving me at the way I was drowning in his breathtaking eyes.  
“I really want to kiss you right now.” My spinning mind came to a screeching halt.  
“What?” James eyes went wide, and he blushed. He fucking _blushed_. And damn that should be cute and it was, but somehow he still managed to look sexy.  
“Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. I just – I’ll go now.” He turned to run away and that’s when my brain finally rebooted and I grabbed his hand before he could flee. He stopped and slowly turned, as if he was afraid him turning to fast would scare me off or make this disappear. Whatever _this_ was. The hopeful shine in his eyes kinda threw me. How could he want me so bad and how could he think _I_ wouldn’t want _him_?  
“You do? Wanna kiss me, I mean.” I asked.  
“Yeah.” I looked into his beautiful eyes and searched for the truth. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that James, kind and gorgeous and funny and strong, wanted me.  
“Well, go for it, Soldier.” His eyes locked onto mine and then his lips touched mine and I closed my eyes. His plush lips were as soft as I had imagined and warm and he tasted like alcohol and cinnamon. The kiss was sweet and soft and slow and mind-blowing. When he drew back, he was smiling that blinding beautiful smile, that I was already hooked on. He leaned his forehead against mine.  
“Go out with me?” he asked.  
“Absolutely.” I said.  
“Great.”  
“Just, to be sure. Only the both of us, right?” I asked. He laughed and god I wanted that sound for my ringtone.  
“Yeah. Only the both of us.”  


He picked me up right on time. He brought a bunch of daisies, because he thought roses were boring and that just wouldn’t do for someone as special as I was. After that I knew I was a goner. I think the waiter at the nice Italian restaurant he took me to, was disgusted by the way I shamelessly stared at James any chance I got. We talked about anything and everything. About cars and shitty movies and Star Wars - surprisingly enough - and how Disney butchered the books for a prequel. He didn't laugh at me when I looked up at the sky once we finished dinner and said it was beautiful even though this was New York and stars almost none existent.   
I asked about his sister and if he would get nephews anytime soon and it was nice. Sweet and innocent and untouchable and perfect in a way things rarely were in this world anymore.   
He kissed me good-night at my doorstep. A chaste and slow one. And for once I went to sleep with a smile. Feeling genuinely happy for what felt like the first time in years.

  
Our first fight was about money.

Of course it was about money. It was about a month and a half into our softly blooming relationship. I thought he was spending too much money on me, and he was. He was always paying the bill when we were in a restaurant or at the theater or even getting ice-cream and I hated it. Contrary James thought I was spending too much money on him, the few times I was actually able to pay before he did.  
“I’m sick of racing for my purse just so we can split the bill _for once_!” I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, as I already had several times before.  
“I don’t get why this is such a problem, Tony. You are important to me, you are constantly sacrificing things for people, why won’t you just let me indulge you a bit.”  
“Because this is not a bit! You are always paying, it’s ridiculous. This keeps going any longer and Steve will think I’m only in this for the money.”  
“Now, don’t pull him into this. You know he would _not_ think that. And even if he did. What would it matter? It’s me and you in this relationship, we don’t report to him.”  
“We don’t?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, staring at him challengingly. “Cause it sure feels like that. He’s constantly asking about us.”  
“He cares. It’s honest interest.”  
“It’s the Spanish inquisition, that is what it is!” He rolled his eyes.  
“Don’t be so melodramatic.”  
“Next you tell me you don’t notice the looks he sends me all the time.”  
“What looks? And even – no, stop, Tony!” He pointed at me. “I know what you’re doing. That is _not_ what we are fighting about right now.” So we really were fighting. I was too wrapped up in this now named fight, to worry about if this was healthy progress in any relationship or a sign of the end.  
“Well, I don’t know ‘bout what we’re fighting anyways. You are wrong, I’m right. It’s simple like that.” I concluded, and he sent me a highly unimpressed look.  
“It never is as simple as that.”  
“So I’m just never right, or what?”  
“That’s not- Stop twisting my words!” He yelled and threw up his hands. Light flashed before my eyes and I tried my hardest not to flinch. James suddenly grew quiet, slowly lowering his hands. I couldn’t meet his eyes, not ready for whatever emotion I would see there.  
“Doll?” he asked. Voice carefully level.  
“I’m sorry.” I said. And I didn’t even know for what I was really apologizing. For making him angry, maybe? James pulled me into his arms.  
“No, I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”  
“I was pushing you.” And that was true. I was taking things wrong on purpose. He sighed, leaning his forehead against mine, his hand in my hair.  
“ _Why_ don’t you want me to spend money on you, doll? You’re not taking advantage. I want to give you things. I would lay the world at your feet, if I could. You deserve it all.”  
“I feel worthless, when you do.” I whispered. “Useless. Because I can’t give back anything. And I would lay the world at your feet too, if only I could. But I can’t. I can’t even buy you dinner on a regular basis.” I winced when I thought about his ‘birthday present’, consisting of me cooking for him and a star pendant I made. He wore it together with his dog tags everyday and that was so sweet of him, but it was much less than he deserved. He frowned at me.  
“I don’t need you to buy me things, to know you’re worth everything. You, being here with me, you being there for me means the world to me. You are every possibility I thought I’d never get. I want you to have nice things, I just want to make you smile. I love you.” He said and I felt overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn’t find an answer, so I just kissed him. Putting everything I couldn’t voice out loud into it. And that was how our first fight turned into the first ‘I love you’.

 

The second fight was entirely unnecessary.

There were discussions that had to be made. Some fights were inevitable, but this fight was just stupid. But nobody asked me. So we still fought about it.    
I woke up. It was dark and late and I was disoriented. It’s what I blame for needing quite some time to identify what woke me. James was tossing and turning in the bed beside me. I turned on the bedside lamp. His face was pained and sweat made his skin shiny.  
“James.” I said, not really sure if I should touch him. He was after all a trained soldier. “Baby. Wake up!” I spoke louder but it didn’t wake him. A quietly whimpered ‘no. Stop.’ Broke my heart. I tried to talk him awake, but when he let out a shout of ‘Steve!’ I damned the risk and shook him awake. “Sweetheart, wake up. You’re dreaming. It-“ His eyes snapped open, but they were unseeing and in a matter of seconds I was pinned underneath him. James hands were at my throat and pressing hard. I gasped for breath and honest to god fear ran through me. I clawed at his hands and tried to speak, to tell him that it was just a dream, that he was safe, _Baby it’s me_ , but I couldn’t get any sound out. Black dots danced in my view, growing bigger by the second. I tried to struggle, but he had several pounds of muscle and years of training on me. Just when I thought I would pass out, the hands disappeared, and I sucked in a deep stuttering breath.  
“Tony!” James’ hands were feather light frantic touches on my skin, like a hummingbird. Scared to touch me but needing to make sure that I was alright. “Baby. I’m sorry. Please. I’m sorry. Say something, Tony.” There were tears running down his face.  
“I’m. fine.” I got out between heaving breaths. I winced at my raw throat. I sounded hoarse. James just stumbled back against the wall, sliding down and sobbed. I got up and kneeled beside him, I put my arms around him, trying to comfort him.  
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” He cried.  
“It’s fine, Baby, It’s not your fault. You were scared, but you’re safe here. You’re here in New York with me and you’re okay.”  
“It’s not fine. I hurt you!” He looked at me for the first time and I could see the pure despair in his eyes.  
“It’s not your fault, you hear me, you weren’t in control, okay. And I’m okay, baby. Everything is fine. Come back to bed. The floor is cold.” I pulled his hand, but he didn’t move.  
“No!” I frowned.  
“What do you mean, no?”  
“I won’t sleep in a bed with you anymore.”  
“What? If you don’t want to go back to sleep, that’s okay, I get that. We’ll just stay up. No trouble.”  
“No. I shouldn’t have… We can’t sleep together anymore.”  
“Come again? Why the hell not?”  
“Why not?! Because I just almost killed you! I can’t risk that happening again.” He was still sitting on the floor and crying, but he sounded angry. And I knew he was furious. Mad at himself. Drowning in self-loathing.  
“Don’t be so over-dramatic. You didn’t almost _kill_ me. You had a nightmare and I knew better than to touch you but I did anyway. It’s essentially my fault. Now stop this.” He had been a prisoner of war and while he hadn’t told me in detail what had happened, I knew it had to be bad. He had lost his arm after all. Of course he had nightmares and he couldn’t watch war movies and that was fine. It was normal after everything that had happened.  
“No. I won’t risk hurting you. I shouldn’t have to begin with.” He just shook his head.  
“Come on, Sweetheart. Don’t beat yourself up about this. It was not your fault and anyway I forgive you.”  
“You shouldn’t.” He said bitterly.  
“James.” I groaned annoyed.  
“Tony.” He said in a matching tone.  
“This was your first nightmare in what? 8 weeks? That’s nothing. That’s fairly amazing.”  
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to ever be scared of me.”  
“And I’m not. Baby, I know this was shitty, but it was my own stupid fault for touching you. I’m not scared of you. We’ll find a way to wake you. Don’t worry so much this probably won’t happen ever again.”  
“But what if it does!” He shouted and I had to take a deep breath not to scream at him in frustration.  
“Stop – Stop yelling. You’ll wake the kids.”  
“Sorry.” He mumbled as I sat back down next to him.  
“Look, I don’t want you to sleep alone. I don’t want to sleep alone either, okay. Before you I had nightmares almost every other night, but when you’re here they are all but gone. I really want you here. I need you here to sleep. So please, let’s not make this a big deal.” He was silent for some time.  
“I’m helping with your nightmares?” he asked quietly.  
“You are. So much, sweetheart.” Again he was silent.  
“Okay.”  
“Okay?”  
“I will buy a taser and a panic button. And you will keep it on the nightstand.”  
“A panic button?”  
“Yes. To call Steve. For when I forget who you are, who I am. That hasn’t happened in forever, but I thought I was over the violent nightmares, too.” Forgetting who he was? That was something we were gonna talk about.  
“Alright. If that’s what it takes for you to stay.” I could handle having a taser, even though I’d never use it on him. And finally he intertwined his fingers with mine, his head falling against my shoulder. Seeking comfort and warmth.  
“Thank you.”  


The third fight was by far the worst.

It was the end of July and Sophia would be leaving for Julliard soon. She already had everything she needed for that. There was a bank account with savings to her name. The half of what I had been able to put away ever since ‘investing’ myself more into my nighttime job. Almost $4000. Soon I’d be able to move us into a bigger place. Maybe. Anyway, James and I did great. We went on dates or we stayed in watching stupid movies with the kids. It was sweet and happy. I loved the way, he was around the kids, he treated them like his own. He made me laugh and every night we held each other the nightmares slowly had disappeared. Things had been going good, maybe that was why it had to go to shit. It had been a real long night, but it had been worth it. The $600 in the safe inside my closet said so. But I had been way to tired coming home at 8 o’clock in the morning, too tired to change out of my clothes, too tired to shower. And the lucky thing was, I didn’t have to. I had a day off from work and Sophia had taken the kids to kindergarten and Adonia was currently at Ms. Cass’s. I had the whole apartment for myself for once. And while rationally I knew the time would be spent on deep cleaning every room, I liked to indulge myself in the fantasy of a lazy day. I didn’t expect the doorbell to ring only an hour after I hit the sheets. I slowly pulled myself upright and walked towards the door, resembling a zombie rather than a living human being. My sleepy brain was to blame for me not looking through the spyhole, when I really should have done that. Because everything went to shit the moment I opened the door. In front of me was James. Carrying a paper bag – with supposedly breakfast in it - and two cups of coffee. I was pleasantly surprised, but James looked shocked – which he shouldn’t considering he was the one coming to my place.  
“Hey, Babe.” I said, stepping towards him, wanting to kiss him, but he put his hands on my shoulders and kept me some distance away. Okay, yes, it might be a little turn-down, that there could be the come of some client in my mouth still. Which it wasn’t. Condoms was a not up for discussion. But still, maybe he wanted me to brush my teeth first. His brow did this little furrow, it only did when he was seriously offended.  
“You’re working the streets again.” He just said. And I was confused. Did I not get something? I was not that concentrated, and the smell of hot coffee _was_ distracting. So maybe, I missed something.  
“What? I, yes, what do you mean by again? I never stopped.” James pushed past me into the kitchen, setting the food down rather harshly. I rubbed my face, trying to get my brain to cooperate, because I felt that right now was somewhat important.  
“Well, I certainly thought you had.” James tone was reproachful and irritated. But maybe I was wrong.  
“You are angry.” I stated with a small grimace. The way he rolled his eyes told me that ‘angry’ was either an understatement or blatantly obvious and didn’t need confirmation.  
“Why do you do this still?” For money? That was the whole point of prostitution, wasn’t it?  
“Same reason I started it in the first place. What is up with you?” I asked, getting more awake by the second.  
“What’s up with me is, that my boyfriend sells his body and didn’t even think of telling me.” He raised his voice and I frowned. It’s not like I made this a secret. He knew from the start. So why was he suddenly not okay with this?  
“You knew, you knew from the start that I did this and you definitely know why. So why is this suddenly a problem, when it wasn’t before?”  
“Before I didn’t know that you are still doing it. I thought you stopped! You’ve got monthly income and you were out playing cards just yesterday. And I don’t like that either but it’s not illegal and it’s not too dangerous. So tell me why is there a need for you to play hooker?” _Play hooker? Fuck you very much, Barnes._ Talking about this like it was some kind of game, like it was fun.  
“That monthly income? It pays for our apartment and school. But we actually do need food and clothes sometimes in a while. You’ve got no idea how expensive it is too raise four children –“  
“No, I don’t. Because you won’t tell me. You won’t tell me anything. Not that you hook up again or still or whatever, not how expensive caring for a family really is, let alone how you truly feel. And you don’t tell me that your wage is not enough to pay for everything you need. If you would have told me we could’ve made it work.” Made it work how? It wasn’t like I already tried everything else. And this was shitty, but okay at the same time. It got us by and I could save up money, so I didn’t have to do this anymore.  
“So you what? Advantage me, because you feel sorry for me? No thanks, I don’t want your pity.”  
“I’m not pitying you and you know it. But this is far from alright, Tony.”  
“Why? Because you just assumed? How is that my fault?”  
“I guess it’s not, then. My bad. Guess I was just stupid for expecting something like truthfulness or you know god beware honesty from my boyfriend. I wanted to bring you breakfast and maybe have a nice and cozy morning till the kids are back, but I’m really not in the mood anymore. Enjoy your coffee.” He snapped and flew out of the apartment.  
“James!” I called. The door slammed shut was his response. I sighed, rolled my shoulders and tried to clear my thoughts. It was utter chaos. Of guilt and anger and guilt at being angry and anger at feeling guilty. I put the breakfast into the fridge calmly, just to slam the cups violently into the sink. Beautiful, delicious, still – _god_ – still hot coffee going to waste at my emotional instability and then I grieved for the coffee I had just ruined and somehow I just started crying because I was always sabotaging myself and destroyed what I wanted.

 

I spent all of three hours working on the apartment and cleaning myself up before there was another unexpected visitor at my door.  Steve had a dark look on his face as soon as I opened the door.  
“Hey” I greeted, but he just pushed past me, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the small kitchen. “What’s wrong?” I asked, the room felt crowded with Steve’s posture right now and I grew restless.  
“Sit.” He ordered tonelessly.  
“What?!”  
“Sit.” He ordered again, harsher this time and I raised my hands in a calming gesture, while sitting down.  
“Okay.” He pulled out a goddamn newspaper article out of his pocket, like we were in the 20th century.  
“Still no alleviation for Howard Stark.” He started reading and my blood ran cold.  
“What-“ I tried to say something, anything, but he just spoke over my protests.  
“Still no alleviation for Howard Stark. Nine months after the Stark children were first reported missing, police has finally stopped the active search units. No ransom demand, no witnesses, no surveillance, no signs of struggle, no evidence at all – it seems the five children disappeared into thin air. Very few believe in finding them alive, in fact people don’t believe in finding them at all. False sightings and fruitless leads have taken a toll on their father - Engineer, head and owner of Stark Industries. Close friends report his miserable state. Howard Stark is lost in grief, after the tragic death of his wife Maria Stark, neé Carbonell-Russo, two and a half years ago, now adding the pain of losing all his children. Official statements say, Howard Stark will keep up his privately funded army of detectives and search parties until Anthony, Sophia, Luca, Marciana and Adonia Stark are found.” Silence rang after he finished. Drumming in my head and ears. Steve stared at me, waiting for any kind of reaction. But even I didn’t know how to react. This was horrible and frightening and unfortunate and it had been inevitable. Sooner rather than later someone had to find out.  
“What do you want me to say?” I asked. Honestly I didn’t know what to tell him. There was no getting out of this. And I knew it.  
“I don’t know? Maybe deny it, so I can properly yell at you for lying to us, for lying to Bucky.” Yeah sure, because that would do any good now.  
“I’m not stupid, you know and there’s no chance of you believing this to be a funny coincidence.” I answered.  
“I don’t think this is funny. In fact this is so messed up I don’t even know what to do with it. Surely there must be a damn good reason a 17 year old – picture my surprise when I noticed that – takes his toddler siblings and runs away from their home. I’m with CPS Tony and I’ve seen a lot, but I never saw anything close to your case. I know you have a complicated relationship to your father, but there has to be more to this.” And he was right. Very right.  
“There is.”  
“So, tell me.” He demanded incredulously.  
“It’s none of your business. There are pretty fucking fantastic reasons, but you don’t need to know this.” I didn’t think I _could_ tell him.  
"Tell me, Tony. Give me a reason." He pleaded, searching my face for answers I wasn’t willing to give.  
"Why would you even believe me?" It’s not like _he_ did.  
"Because I've seen a lot of shit going on. Something's wrong and I need you to tell me." I started pacing, not bearing to sit still any longer.  
"I don't trust you with this." His face settled into stone. _Wrong answer._  
"You don't have a choice, Mr. Stark. Either you tell me what's happening here or I will have to call the police." He said coldly and I stopped short in my tracks.  
“You wouldn’t.”  
"I don't want to, Tony. But you technically kidnapped four minors, stole a lot of money and faked identities." He raised his voice a little, but I refused to feel intimidated.  
"I didn't steal shit!"  
"You took your siblings college funds." Technically. That did so not count.  
"That's not -"  
"Legally, I should get you arrested for it. I can lose my job if authorities find out I knew about you." He reasoned. And no matter what, I didn’t want Steve to get into this mess. But I didn’t exactly pull him in either. He did this to himself. Still.  
"I'm sorry." I’m sorry you are drawn between your job and some kind of loyalty to me.  
"Don't be sorry. Be honest. Why did you run?"  
"You don't want to know." I commented bitterly. No one would care for my pathetic sobstory.  
"I really do. Tony, I care for you, I want to know." He looked so worried, so sincere. Like this wasn’t any other work-day to him. Even though this was probably exactly what his work was. I liked Steve, even considered him my friend. So maybe I could tell him.  
"Okay." I swallowed. I didn’t know how to start. Considering I hadn’t talked about this. Ever. Steve didn’t need any details, just the bare bones of it, so he could get why  we couldn’t have stayed.  
"There is someone at home, he's not good influence on me and my siblings." I rushed out. Steve frowned.  
"You said your father-" I interrupted him. I didn’t want to go there.  
"Not Howard. A friend of his. His business partner, Obadiah."  
"What did he do?" Steve’s face was kind of stony. Unreadable. No pity or anger or even comfort. Just relentless. I didn’t know if that made this easier or harder. I took a deep breath before speaking. It did nothing to steady my voice though.  
"It's, well after my mother’s death Dad was shitfaced almost constantly. I don't want to blame him, because I felt the same pain he did. Don't look like that, I told you he didn't hit me and he didn't. Attempted suicide once and I found him, that's the only trauma he ever inflicted on me. Howard and I never were very close to begin with. Stark Industries isn't famous for nothing, it's a lot of work and he was never home -at least it felt that way. It's not that important, but I want you to understand why he never did anything." Steve frowned.  
"Why he never did anything? That doesn't make sense." I started the pacing up again. Trying to sort my thoughts and failing miserably. With his name, came his face and with his face came the… unpleasant memories all mixed up with the good ones. Making it all more twisted. I felt nausea slowly creeping up my throat and I prayed to gods that I didn’t believe in to just get this out, so Steve wouldn’t call the cops on me.  
"Yet. I know. I-I'll get there, just- Obadiah, it wasn't as bad - first I mean. He was strict, but not - I guess I deserved it - sometimes. And then it was worse and I - I tried so hard, but it-" The gruesome pictures messed with my head and I couldn’t get a full sentence out of my mouth.  
"Tony, slow down. Just keep breathing. You're safe here. Just tell me." Steve’s voice was soothing, steadying me in the now.  
"I'm trying. I know- I-I want to, but I- It's not coming out like it's supposed to. I try, but- but the words twist and struggle- and I- I don't know what's wrong with me." I tried so hard to be cool about this. But I was not. Cool. About. This.  
"It's okay. Nothing's wrong with you. You've got a hard time talking about this, it's not a big deal. It's fine. You're fine." I was ~~not~~ fine. Fine.  
"Okay." Fine. If he said so.  
"I can ask you some questions and you can try answering in just a few words. I don't need a world changing speech from you, one word, two, are fine, can we do that?" I felt embarrassed. Why couldn’t I just talk to him like normal people.  
"Yeah, yeah sure. I can do two words, I guess?"  
"Okay, if I've got this right, Obadiah Stand, your godfather hurt you." _Hurt._ _That sounds wrong._  
"Yes."  
"How did he hurt you?" _Wrong._  
"He-I- it.." I felt my breath hitching.  
"Shh it's okay. We'll get there." Steve softly touched my hand, trying to comfort me.  
"Did he hurt you more than once?" _Stop saying that!_  
"Yeah." Countless times.  
"When did it start? How old were you?" I shut my eyes against the flood of pictures, but it did nothing to ease the sting of it.  
"10." Young, too young to understand, but not young enough to simply forget.  
"He started to hurt you when you were 10 years old. Did he stop when you got older?" 10, 11, 14 – didn’t matter.  
"No, he-it got-" There was a hand too low on my back and I whirled around, but nothing was there. Of course. He was not here.  
"It got what, Tony?" Steve insisted.  
"Worse." I answered staring unseeingly.  
"Okay. When did it get worse?"  
"Couple years later."  
"Can you tell me what he did?" _No_. But I tried.  
"I don't- it.. wasn't. It wasn't that out of place. It - he was just strict, and I was a brat and he.." my voice broke as I felt the sting of that first time he ever touched me. Tears welled up in twisted synchro with my ten-year-old-self, feeling betrayal and hurt and _fear._ I was so scared.  
"He hit you." _To put it lightly._  
"Yeah."  
"Were it slaps or more like beatings?" Well, that’s always a matter of definition and I really had no frame of reference.  
"I,I went to the hospital couple of times." With that crappy fake I.D. that no one ever believed was real, but the nurses took pity on me, never believing that I fell while skating.  
"Was that before or after it got worse?"  
"Both." I had to switch hospitals thrice, so they wouldn’t inform the officials.  
"How did it get worse?" I bit at my lip, to ignore the memory of me screaming. Screaming. And screaming. But no one would hear. Because I was screaming in my head. _No. No. No._  
"He- he was. I- I couldn't stop him. He was stronger than me and I tried but I was scared and I couldn't. And I didn't know, it just it was just strange first, but then it hurt and I was too scared and I couldn't scream or fight. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't." I drew in a shaking breath, gasping for air.  
"Tony, did he rape you?" I couldn't answer, my mouth wouldn't open so I just nodded. Tears streaming down my face. Talking about this just made it all more real. Gentle arms encircled me as I sobbed against Steve's strong chest. He just let me, he stroked his finger through my hair and hummed comfortingly, but I didn't really notice. I felt warm in his embrace. Safe. Even though I’d never be. Not from him and not from the nightmares. Still his warmth gradually stopped the shaking in my body.  
"Don't, don't tell the police where we are, please. He can't get near them again."  
"It's okay. I won't. I promise you don't have to go back to him." But, this was not about me. This was about them and he needed to get that.  
"That's not. You don't understand. He can't get to hurt them."  
"Don't understand what?"  
"He hurt her. He raped my sister. She can't go back, none of them can. He will hurt them and it was stupid that I thought he'd be... satisfied with me. It was stupid and he hurt her because I didn't protect her. I can't let that happen again. I just can't, Steve. You gotta promise me to make sure he doesn't get near them. Lock them in, flee or hide them but don't let him hurt them. I will do anything. I can go back and say we were kidnapped and they didn't make it or- or i can tell the police I killed them. Just, promise me." I wasn’t above begging.  
"Woah, easy there. I promise, I won't let him hurt any of you. I promise." Strangely the relief I felt was small, even though Steve was a hundred percent sincere. He couldn’t really protect them if Obadiah ever found us. He was way too powerful for that. So I just said nothing.  
"So that's what made you run. He touched your sister, that was the last straw."  
"It was the only straw." It’s not like that wasn’t enough. She was my sister.  
"What do you mean, the only straw?"  
"He didn't need to do more, he hurt Sophia so I protect her."  
"You. Running. It was always about protecting them. Not protecting yourself." _About me?  
_ "No why would it be about me?"  
"Because he abused you, tony. For years." It wouldn’t have been worth it.  
"No, it.. It doesn't matter. It's not important. Just me." I’d probably deserved it anyway.  
"Oh gosh." Steve whispered, burying his face into his hands. The only show of emotion ever since we started this. "Tony, you gotta talk to Bucky about this." _Absolutely not._  
"No!" He just looked at me.  
"Tony." Wow. I didn’t think anyone ever said so much by just using my name, besides my mother, maybe Sophia. And there was Steve’s stern look of disapproval to back it up. And still. I couldn’t.  
"No, you don't get it. It's not important. He doesn't need to know."  
"He's your boyfriend, Tony. He needs to know. In fact you should get a lawsuit against Obadiah. You _have_ to tell him." I didn’t _have_ to do shit and my face said so.  
"I don't! What good would it do, hm? He would pity me, or I don't know. He already thinks I'm disgusting for being a hooker." Steve whipped his head up, so fast I was sure he’d get whiplash.  
"What? Being what?" I swiftly went over the alarmed frown on his face.  
"I won't tell him. That's not- I can't." Steve shook his head, trying to keep up with the sudden changes in information.  
"Bucky knows pain, he won't pity you. And he sure as hell won't think you're disgusting."  
"But I am!" I shouted. "I am disgusting. Broken and used. He wouldn't want me if he knew." He’d hate me for not telling him and then he’d be repulsed that he ever touched someone like me.  
"Of course he would. You're not broken or used or disgusting or any of what you think about yourself. You are clever and selfless and kind and so strong." Steve said, but I just shook my head.  
"It's okay if you don't see it yet. Trust me, Tony. It will be better if he knows."  
"No, I don't want him to know. Nobody. And you can't tell him either, you hear me? You don't." I tried to say it in the most threatening tone I could muster.  
"He's my best friend, Tony. And this is important whether you want to admit it or not, he needs to know."  
"You've got no right to tell him. You can't." But he would. Surely Steve valued his friendship higher than breaking my trust. Surprisingly Steve sighed, giving in.  
"Alright. I won't tell him. Under one condition." _Anything._  
"That is?"  
"You go see a therapist." _Okay, I take it back - not anything._  
"What? No. I'm fine." I looked at him funnily. Therapist? So not happening.  
"You're not."  
"Oh and how would you know, huh?"  
"I go to group meetings every week. It's mainly veterans and there are a few guys that got practically blown up. Got some real nasty scars. They are wearing them too, you know. I've seen these grafts. And I can tell. They are damn good, but I can still tell they are not real skin. I know you are wearing one of those skin grafts. Skin grafts produced by Stark Industries." Fuck. Fuck you very much Steve Rogers. Fucking goody-two-shoes.  
"No." Even to my ears that sounded less than convincing.  
"Your left arm. I can tell, Tony. And I don't think your hiding embarrassing tattoos with it."  
"I'm not wearing a skin graft!" I didn't see it coming. He was much too fast, within seconds, he grabbed my arm pulled it straight and drew a cross on the inside of my elbow and the skin graft – that I was in fact wearing - turned off, black fabric very visibly covering my forearm down to my wrist.  
"I'm fairly sure I know what you are hiding with this, but please, prove me wrong. Take it off and I'll let it go." Steve’s gaze was so intense, I had to look away.  
"I'd rather not." He nodded, expression troubled.  
"And that's why you are going to therapy. And again talk to Bucky about this."  
"No way. I'm fine. It's fine. I can't afford therapy, anyways. No big deal. I'm fine."  
"Hurting yourself is nowhere near fine." Steve said sternly.  
"He will break up with me. Or he will totally blow it out of proportions. Put me on suicide watch." James was like that. Overprotective bastards, the both of them.  
"He will support you. He loves you, Tony. More than anything. Don’t you love him, too?”  
“Of course! You know I do. It’s not about that. I just don’t want him to think I’m damaged somehow.”  
“Isn’t there anybody who knows about all of this?” No, well kinda.  
“Rhodey, knows about the skin graft-thing, well not that I’m wearing it, but knows about… you know.”  
“And does he think you are broken or damaged?” That was not heading into a direction I liked. _Don’t use logic against me, Rogers._ Rhodey was different, always had been.  
“He’s not the one that has to put up with me 24/7.”  
“Tony, Bucky loves you. You’re hurting him with not telling him and you are hurting yourself with keeping this secret. You can do this, Tones. Just go to him and tell him. He will listen, maybe he will be mad at first, but he will forgive you because you trusted him and because he loves you, okay?” It sounded somewhat reasonable. Maybe it would be better if he knew. After all he had to at least know my real name, when I ever asked him to marry me, right?  
“Maybe.”  
“Not maybe, Tony. Definitely. And do it soon. For one he deserves to know and you don’t get to talk yourself down from it.”  
“Yeah, sure, okay.” I would. And I would do it. Today. I needed to, right?  
  
I was doing this. I was doing this. I. Was. Doing. This. And then James opened the door. I couldn’t do this. But I would.  
“Hey.” I started softly, not really able to look him into the eyes.  
“Hi. You wanna come in?” It seemed like he had somewhat calmed down, even though he was still tense.  
“Yeah.” And then we stood there in his living room, James with his arms crossed leaning against the wall, nobody saying anything. If I had learned one thing with James Barnes, it was that he could play at this way longer than I could. I didn’t even bother trying.  
“I hate when we fight.” I said in a small voice not looking up.  
“Then don’t give me reasons to fight with you.” He said it with a faint smirk, taking the edge off his words. My eyes jumped up to his face before returning to the floor.  
“Asshole.” I said with a small pout I couldn’t stop. He chuckled softly, then stepping towards me and enclosing me in a soft hug. We just stood there for a few minutes. I took in his smell and the feeling of comfort. It felt like home.  
“I’m still angry.” James said after a while. _Oh come the fuck on_. I frowned and pulled away. Way to ruin the mood. Just don’t let me get all calm, right? Happy Tony? Nah, let’s fix that.  
“And I still don’t get why. Maybe I should leave.” James made a frustrated sound.  
“Why did you come in the first place, then?” Yeah, why? What had gotten into me thinking I could do this.  
“Actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”  
“Oh, _now_ you want to talk.” He said in that special sarcastic tone of voice that made me restless and agitated.  
“Don’t be like that.”  
“Like what? Distant, defensive, maybe?” _Like I had been._  
“Yeah, okay, point taken, will you stop it now?” I hissed.  
“You still don’t get why I am mad though.” He stated.  
“No, I don’t. I really don’t get it. I just don’t want your pity. Is that so hard to understand?”  
“I would have helped you not out of pity, but because you are my boyfriend. Because I love you. Together we would’ve found a way.” Yeah, _sure_.  
“I did find a way. Found a solution all on my stupid own, thank you very much.”  
“A solution? You call selling yourself like some dirty whore a solution? In my book that shouldn’t even be a real option!” And like before he got louder and I flinched at his voice as much as at what he said.  
“Wow. That was low, even for you.” I commented darkly.  
“Come on you know, I didn’t mean it like that.” No, he didn’t get to play that you-just-don’t-understand-me card. If he wanted to hurt me, he might as well stand up to it.  
“No, you meant it exactly like that. And you’ve what? Decided you don’t want damaged goods anymore?”  
“Don’t twist my words like that. You aren’t damaged goods. Your body is yours to give and you should only give it because you want to, not because you’re paid for it. And since I am your boyfriend, I’d appreciate it if you’d give your body only to me.” My work was exactly that: work. I loved him, only him. James was my boyfriend.  
“So you’re jealous. You know this doesn’t mean anything, you are the only one in every way that matters. Why is it so important who I let fuck me?” I tried to convince.  
“I’m not jealous. Why is it so surprising that I don’t like what you do? It’s dangerous and illegal and entirely wrong. I don’t get why you are so determined to keep it up, it’s like you don’t even want another way.” _And back to insults we go_.  
“Oh yes because I am such a slut that one man is not enough for me. I’m practically begging for it, the payment is just for show, you know.” I answered as sarcastic as I could.  
“Tony.” His annoyed tone didn’t sit well with me and I started to really get angry.  
“No, James. You are jealous and you are handling it very maturely. Namely: insulting me. I get that you don’t like it but considering this romantic relationship you are not the boss of me and if you can’t accept that maybe we should down grade it to work relationship again, so you can be the boss of me and only that. If you loved me you wouldn’t even suggest that I’m whoring around for fun.” I turned to leave, not wanting to listen to his bullshit anymore, but he stopped me.  
“No.” He just said.  
“No?”  
“No. You don’t get to say that I don’t love you and then just walk away. I’m not the boss of you and you make your own choices. Don’t act like I’m taking that away from you. And don’t you take away my right to an opinion considering your choices. Because that’s what this is. I am angry about your choice of not telling me about your problems and resorting to prostitution instead. Because if -if- you had told me I would have helped you any way I could and you wanted, simply because I love you. But maybe you’re right. You think me wanting basic communication is controlling you? Maybe it really is best if we stop pretending we both want this relationship.” He let go of my hand again and crossed his arms in a rejecting stance.  
“You don’t mean that.” I said. He was mad, not serious.  
“Well, you brought it up first and I think maybe there is something rather true to that idea. After all, Boss, is obviously what I do best.” Gosh, I needed a drink. And wow, that was a thought I didn’t miss at all. And with that I decided I had enough.  
“Know what? You are right. You always are. I’m gonna go now, maybe pick up somebody at a bar like the dirty whore I am. Don’t call me.” I slammed the door shut on my way out. This was a disaster.

  
Ever since James and I had started having sex – awesome sex might I add – hiding the cuts had become increasingly hard. While I was wearing the skin graft only occasionally to hide old scars, I now needed it to cover fresh cuts, which also limited the space. In consequence my forearm was positively mangled. Barely any space for new cuts, but I needed the pain right now. So damn much. And I knew it was messed up. The bottle of vodka next to me said so, too, but I needed _something_ to ground me. My hands were shaking or maybe my whole body was, but I didn’t care. This feeling of down and wrong it would be gone soon enough. I had debated with myself, if I really wanted to do this. It was a habit I had picked up since dating James. I knew he wouldn’t want me to do this, so every time I asked myself if I really needed this right now. 95% I did. But still, I guessed these 5% to James’. I didn’t want to check with the times something he said or did triggered me in the first place. But it wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t that often anyways. It just happened eventually, with anyone. Even with people you loved and that loved you. So did I need this? _Fuck it,_ I did. I fumbled for the razor blade hidden next to the first aid kit. It was a little ironic, but still practical. Messed up. I decided to just reopen the old cuts, that were kinda more scars then wounds now. The first drag of the blade against the hardened skin didn’t even chafe. So I pushed more firmly. And still there was barely a little bit of blood welling up. I threw the blade into the trash, it was dull from use, and grabbed a new one. The next cut went deep, a lot deeper than usual, now with a sharp blade I had underestimated the force, but it felt so good. The tension bleeding out of me in a small steady stream. The pain was calming, it barely registered as hurt, so I made the next cut exactly as deep as the first. It was heavenly. Freeing. After five similar cuts I felt grounded and floating at the same time. This was why I needed this. Not exactly as a punishment, even though I deserved it, but as a way of relief, a possibility to let go. When I got up, I was a little dizzy. The kind of dizzy from blood loss not alcohol. I considered if the cuts needed stitches but I figured they were just this side of fine. Normally cleaning up was when the shame hit, but it didn’t this time, the happy fuzz of the vodka keeping it away. I should do this more often. It was way better than without. The wounds bled through the bandage right away, but the pressure of the skin graft would keep it in check. I picked the bottle up again. Time to drink some more, but the kids would come home soon, they really shouldn’t see me like this. I pulled on my jacket and grabbed two more bottles, maybe I could down them all in the small alley around the corner. Nobody ever looked in there.

The soft fog in my mind faded after a while and I was thinking about James again. I needed to apologize. For saying I would cheat on him. That was low and wrong. I should apologize. For everything. It was probably completely my fault in the first place. I was just too stupid to get it. So I got up and walked the way to the shop. It took a while. I was somehow slower than usual. The alcohol making me stumble a bit. But I got there, and the bottle of cheap vodka did, too.  
“Tony. What are you doing here?” James greeted coolly.  
“I wanted to talk to my boyfriend, apologize maybe, but hey guess I’m not welcome, my mistake.” I was well aware of the slight slur to my speech, but I was beyond caring. Now he turned and even angry like that he was still gorgeous, that just wasn’t fair.  
“Are you drunk?” He asked with a seriously judging undertone.  
“What does it matter, huh? It’s not like you really care.”  
“Just go home and sleep it off. I don’t need this right now.” He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. I opened my mouth to answer but I was interrupted by Sophia showing up behind me.  
“Tony? What the hell are you doing here? It’s fucking half past twelve! I was looking for you, I was worried sick!”  
“Just wanted to be a good boyfriend and apologize for being pathetic. Seems like I fucked even that up.” I said and raised the bottle again to wash out the bitter taste of my words with the fiery burn of potent booze.  
“You are smashed, Tony. Did you expect me to yell in excitement? You’re not even legal yet. No, I’m less than pleased.”  
“Well, I don’t care if you’re pleased or not, Barnes. Because this is my life and you decided you didn’t want to be a part of it, so maybe I shouldn’t have bothered trying and fix this in the first place.”  
“I did not say that I didn’t want to be a part of your life, but – why am _I_ even bothering? I’m arguing with a drunkard! Go be proud of what you’ve done. Drinking alcohol like an ‘adult’, great, Tony. But please do it at home, preferably where the kids can’t see you. You should be ashamed.”  
“Why are you always so….so-so… condemning! Always judging and trying to change me. If I’m not up to your standards just tell me so I can leave for good. I can keep my family fed even without you and this fucking job, just so you know.”  
"Steve. Where are you? Well get your ass down here. I need you on damage control. They are fighting and Tony is drunk. He's not gonna hold out on anyone right now." Sophia was talking on the phone, but James was much louder than her.  
"How can you do this to them? How can you even look in the mirror? You are standing here in the middle of the night, drunk of your ass. Who is with the kids, huh? Sophia is here, to look for ya. Who is with them? But just go on with that, drink your life away, what comes next, huh? Neglect? Abuse?" How dared he? How could he ever accuse me of _that_? He didn’t know shit. The hurt and anger dissolved some of the haze. Leaving me entirely too sober to deal with this.  
"You are no Saint James either are you now? You are nothing but a murderer. I know for a fact that you killed people back in Afghanistan. Do you even know how many children you left orphaned?" I sneered back, it got me a horrified ’Tony!’ from Sophia.  
"Yes, I did and I'm sure if you were in my place you would have fucked them instead." His answer hit deep, like it was supposed to. I ignored the shout of ‘James’ that came from Steve – and when had he got here anyway? – and fought back with everything I had. I could probably pretend it was the  
"Know what, Barnes? Fuck you. Fuck you very much, because my slutty self sure as hell won't do it anymore. I would have any old thug, reeking and disgusting, before I ever let your hypocritical shit of a personality anywhere near my body."   
"Well it's not like sex with you is a privilege anyhow, since you give it out like candy at Halloween. You are pathetic, we have one fight and you go drown your problems in alcohol. Well, newsflash you can't drink away all your problems." Even with my slowed thought process I was able to sass that, like a pro.  
"Watch me." I said and tipped my head back, the bottle of vodka was three quarters full still but it didn't matter I kept swallowing until it was all gone. It burned, but it was a familiar kind of pain.  
"See, you think me having alcohol is a problem, well now I drank that problem away." They were staring at me a little stunned. James just looked on in impassionate fury.  
"Bravo, you just solved a problem by making it worse kinda a repeating pattern with you, ain't it?" He commented. So I was making everything worse, now?  
"Wanna know what the biggest problem here is?" I snarled, taking a swaying step towards him.  
"Yeah, go ahead hit me." He daunted.  
"You are! You and your bigoted, chauvinistic and unrealistic ideas of a relationship. What did you expect, dating a hooker? This ain't pretty woman, there ain't no white limousine in this garage and even if there was it would be broken down - much like we - you and me - are broken up!"  
"Oh spare me! Drunk as you are you won't even remember breaking up with me in the morning. And anyway it should be me breaking up with you."  
"Oh yes? Tell me again why is that, guess my black out drunk brain forgot, silly me."  
"You are a narcistic, inconsiderate, fucked up asshole. You don't care about anyone but yourself and you sure as hell not care about this relationship. There's no difference between me and one of your clients. You are just a cheap whore pretending to be a good father."   
"At least I see my fucked up family more than once a year. I bet Becca doesn't even want to see you. I'd totally get that. I wouldn't want a mentally unstable ex-soldier brother bathing in self-pity and missing a fucking arm either! Guess what, Bucky, I quit. I quit this job. I quit us. I quit you. I quit all of this. Go and follow my true calling as a full time slut."  
"Good cause I can definitely do without seeing your face every day." _Ouch_ , I thought.  
"Good." I said.  
"Great." He answered. Crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  
"Awesome."  
"Now will you please go drink yourself into a stupor somewhere else. I don't even know how you can be coherent after that amount of vodka." I didn’t either. And the world did get a little fuzzy around the edges or- whoah – maybe a lot.  
"A lot of practice, baby, a lot. I don't know if ever drank _that_ much, but as always you push me to new heights." I couldn’t stop antagonizing him, or them. Was there always two James’ in the room?  
"Don't try put this on me. It's your choice if you want to drink yourself into a coma. Just go ahead and - Tony?" And just with that tunnel vision turned into black. I didn’t even feel the impact of going down hard.

"I can't... I can't believe you. I thought you two were fine. I thought there finally was something working. I thought you were good for him. What happened? You were okay just yesterday." I thought that was Sophia’s voice, but I couldn’t really be sure. Everything was kinda hazy and I couldn’t get my eyes to open.  
"Well yesterday I didn't know that he was again or rather still working as a prostitute." James. He was talking. He was here? And where was here? He sounded harsh. Something felt harsh. I couldn’t tell if it was his voice or the covers that were draped over me.  
"That's what all this is about? He didn't exactly hide it and you did know what to expect going in."  
"He didn't exactly tell me either. And he also didn't tell me that financials are still that bad with you."  
"Are you for real? Of course money is tight. He is sole income to five growing people. You know that."  
"No, I don't know that because I never had to support anyone but myself and occasionally my sister. I don't know all that stuff and he won't tell me and that is what this was all about. If he told me there would have been another way."  
"He's not your charity case, James. He won't take any of your money."  
"I know that! He's not a charity case, he's my fucking boyfriend and my solution would've been moving in together. Buying or renting the apartment below mine and make that our home. With equal payment for rent and food. That is what I proposed, not randomly throwing around money, because I love him."  
"Well, you did a great job showing that tonight, buddy." Another male voice. Not James.  
"What? I didn't mean any of that!"   
"Well, it sure sounded as if you did from my point. And many of these things were way low. Don't get me wrong you both said awful things. But calling him a cheap whore? Accusing him of neglecting or even abusing the kids? That was just cruel. Because that narcisstic, inconsiderate asshole in there throws up almost every night after he was out, and I know that for a fact. He hates doing it and he is so disgusted by it, by himself that it makes him literally sick. But he does it anyway, because he loves us. Because he is an awesome brother and father. Because he puts all of us above himself. I can only hope that he doesn't remember what you said tonight because these words? They will stay with him, they will hurt and fester, because it's exactly what he thinks about himself and you just threw an affirmation in his face. He is very much not okay, but he was getting there, because of you. So fix. This. And do it fast." Fix what? I wondered who they were talking about, it felt like I was supposed to know that, but it was just out of my reach. And then I just faded into dark again.

The next time I became aware, I heard steady repeating beeps, that sounded familiar. And then a solemn voice. Not James, again.  
"I know why you are upset."  
"I'm fucking wired about him not telling me."  
"No that is not why you are upset. You are angry because somehow you got it stuck in your head that moving in together is an absolutely natural way of things to go. When you think about saving money you go along the list, go out less, buy cheaper food, move in with your boyfriend. And it's great that you reached that level of intimacy and comfort with somebody. You are angry because Tony chose prostitution over moving in with you. And that is definitely a reasonable thing to be upset about - if that was what had happened! But it's not! Because Tony doesn't just throw his problems at somebody else and he sure as hell didn't think moving in together to save money was even on the table, not because he doesn't love you but because he doesn't just expect these things of you. To him it was prostitution over digging his boyfriend for money. And that may not be a wise choice, but it is a reasonably understandable one. So stop just assuming you both are constantly on the same page. A relationship means communication and you sure as hell messed that up. This fight is as much on you as it is on him. He didn't handle your fight well and I guess that's mostly 'cause he didn't understand what had gone so wrong. And that my friend is solely on you. You don't get to take the moral high ground here.” He talked too fast, or maybe I thought too slow, anyway I couldn’t grasp what Not-James had said, but he mentioned my name, right? So was it about me? Didn’t really matter. The beeping was getting fainter and I didn’t hear his answer anymore.  


I groaned. Ungiving pain throbbing in my head in a way it hadn’t since I stopped my rebellious college escapades. Which meant somebody either spiked my drink or I just drank way too much. Memories were kinda hazy but I was pretty sure I had went for the second option.  
“Tony.” Oh right there were people here. Wait where was here? I forced my eyes open against the too bright light.  
“Lights.” I whined. Already closing them again, after checking that I _was_ in fact in a hospital room. Seems like it had been a lot too much alcohol. I winced at the thought of the hospital bill too come for this.  
“No. The blends are already down and quite frankly you deserve this.” Wow. Sophia was pissed. She was cruel when she was pissed.  
“Good morning to you, too, beautiful.”  
“Well, it may be a good morning for you, but I didn’t even sleep tonight. Besides it’s 4 p.m.” Her caustic tone was impossible to ignore, so I opened my eyes again, placing my arm over my face, so I could get used to the dampened light.  
“Why the hell not?” I asked.  
“Language.” Came a male voice out of some corner of the room. _Great, Captain Morals was here, too._ I said as much.  
“He’s not the only one here to judge you.” _James._ And he was pissed, too. Awesome.  
“Well, I’m sorry for whatever I said or did last night. Whatever it is, I don’t remember, so just yell at me for it and then we can go home.”  
“We won’t yell at you, Tony. Even though it would be fun considering your massive hangover.” Steve said and I lifted my arm fast enough to catch the self-satisfied little smirk on his face. Bastard.  
“Well, they won’t. I will. And I will do it here, because I don’t swear in front of the kids.” The kids. Fuck.  
“Where are they?”  
“They’re with Mrs. Cass. I brought them there last night, right after the damn ambulance arrived.” Last night sounded pretty bad.  
“So what is making all of you that tense, not Sophia, I get that, just you both.” I waved into Steve and James’ direction. “What is it that I did last night exactly?”  
“You broke up with me.” James said in a solemn voice and whoah. Really? And why was he here now? If I broke up with him, wouldn’t he stay away or did he not give a shit about it, considering I was drunk off my ass?  
“Well, that sounds stupid. Why would I do that?” I asked incredulously.  
“We fought. About the prostitution.” Awww, damn it.  
“Again.”  
“Yes, again, Tony. And I’m still not letting this one go.” And he sounded angry again. And I really wasn’t up to fighting now.  
“Okay, just let’s not repeat that fight. I don’t particularly like the outcome of last night. But you’re here, so I guess you don’t like it either, right?” I questioned hopefully.  
“No, you passed out a minute after you told me to go fuck myself, so I really didn’t take it that seriously.” I let out a breath of relief. Thank god.  
“For whatever it’s worth, I’m still sorry about what I said to you, I didn’t mean any of it. I’m glad you don’t remember.” I winced when I thought of my talent to find weak spots when angry.  
“Well, that doesn’t sound fair. You still have to remember and I’m well aware, that I shoot to kill when I get mad. I’m sorry for everything I said, I probably didn’t mean it either. Sorry.”  
“Apology accepted.” When I finally really looked up I noticed they all looked worn and tired.  
“You all look like shit.”  
“Look who’s talking.” Steve snorted. The silence after that was a little awkward. Sophia silently brooding. James’s face disclosing nothing and Steve obviously uncomfortable with the tension in the room.  
“So when will I be able to leave?”  
“Nurse said once you wake up, you’re ready to go. You threw up every ounce of alcohol and-or nutrient in your body, so we should keep an eye on you for the day, but you should be fine.” James filled in. His voice had always been more of a mood indicator than his face and I could figure he was less than thrilled.  
“Alright, then, I’m not staying any longer.” I said, sitting upright, fighting the pounding headache into the back of my consciousness.  
“Sure. Boys, if you could wait for us in the car please, we’ll be out in about half an hour.” Sophia said with sweet smile that made my stomach drop. I was so in for it. James and Steve just nodded curtly and left without a word. Wise choice. Once they were gone I was waiting for her to start, but nothing came.  
“Just say it.”  
“I don’t know what to say, Tony. I don’t. So let me think on it for a goddamn minute!” And she was yelling already. I didn’t like loud voices. But I deserved this one, so I kept my mouth shut.  
“The stunt you pulled last night was stupid, reckless, irresponsible and dangerous. And it showed me that I wasn’t paying nearly enough attention. You stopped this, when Adonia was born, I know you did. The girls, the partying, the drinking, the drugs.”  
“You make it sound like I was addicted to heroin.”  
“For all I know, that might be true, Tony! Because you don’t talk to me. You never told me what you took, in fact you never told me _that_ you took anything, but I saw the videos and headlines like everybody else.”  
“I smoked some weed, we all did. It’s nothing big, okay? Ritalin when exams were coming up. I’m not a drug addict, okay?”  
“What was that, last night? James and you fought. So what? You decided to drink it away?!”  
“Yes! I wanted to forget for one fucking night! A few hours of blissful vacation from this fucked up life. One night. And you’re giving me hell about it.” She crossed her arms.  
“I guess that’s how Dad started, too.”  
“Don’t compare me to him.”  
“Why not? You left us alone last night, fought with your boyfriend and got absolutely trashed. You are in a hospital, Tony! A hospital. Because of alcohol poisoning. I remember Dad being there, too.” Yeah. Sure, that’s what I told them. But I was sick of all the lies, I told, to protect her from the truth, I was not my father.  
“No, he wasn’t.”  
“Of course he was. It was all over the papers. Even Pym came to check on us.”  
“No! He was not in hospital for alcohol poisoning. He swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and two bottles of whiskey. He was depressed, he wanted to die, Sophia. Hank Pym came because I called him, after I found Dad, passed out in his own vomit. So don’t compare me to him. Because I _never_ left you, even when it’s hard I’m here for you. When he wasn’t, I was there!” Sophia stared at me with wide eyes.  
“You’re telling me this. Now. Two years after. Are you kidding me?!”  
“You were 14! And I should have told you your father had attempted suicide one year after your mother died? No. I’m not sorry for keeping this from you. You were not ready to hear that.”  
“That was not your decision to make.” _Not my decision._  
“Oh, it wasn’t? Whose was it, huh? Tell me. Who had the right to decide if you needed to know or not, if not me. Maybe I didn’t really raise you like the kids, but I took responsibility after mum died. So why was it not my decision to make? Should it have been Obadiah’s?” She gasped. I knew it was cruel and I instantly regretted saying that and still it was out there.  
“And you made _me_ go to therapy. It’s ridiculous. Out of the both of us, _you_ are the one most messed up. And still you think I am the unstable one. If _anything,_ similar to last night happens again. I swear to god, Tony, I will call Dad and tell him where we are. And there’s nothing you could do to stop it.” Her amber eyes shined like furious flames. She was hitting right on home. After all we shared many talents. Even the one to hit where it hurt the most. My breathing was getting short and my eyes burned with unshed tears.  
“Go check yourself out. Steve won’t wait forever.” With that she strode out of the room. Leaving me to try and keep my panic in check. Rationally I knew that she would get sick of this situation eventually. It was less than ideal, after all. But I had hoped she was content enough until college. It was only a few months anyway. Seems like I got my ultimatum a little earlier then expected. I hit the call button, even though I was tempted to just rip the IV out.

The car ride was even more tense than the waking up had been. Sophia was riding shotgun. So she hadn’t had to look at me. James was in the backseat next to me. He could feel my raging storm of troubled emotions and he wordlessly took my hand. It made me smile. After everything I still had him. He was the best thing to ever happen to me. I could get through this, when he was by my side. Nobody spoke, and the radio was turned off. Rain was tapping against the windows while we slowly made our way through the madness that was New York traffic. I barely registered when the car stopped, but thunder rolling made me jump out of my thoughts. James got out of the car with us and told Steve, he would walk the rest of the way later. Sophia headed up without a glance towards me. Fighting with her always made me uneasy. It was foreign, we almost never fought. Certainly never in these proportions. I went to follow her, but James stopped me.  
“Do you mind the rain? I’d like to talk without her listening, you know.” It was a soft stream. Almost gentle, sespite the lightning a few miles away. But water was never gentle to me. I didn’t like the rain, but I hadn’t told him that yet. So, well.  
“No. Sure. What do want to talk about?” He took a deep breath and I knew I wouldn’t like what he was going to say instantly.  
“I don’t want you working the streets.” Would this be the only subject for weeks now?  
“Oh, come on. Can we not now?”  
“No, Tony. I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk to you about this. Just look for a solution, so you don’t have to anymore.” Fuck, I so didn’t need this now. Or ever.  
“It’s been a stressful day, let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?” I pleaded.  
“You’ve been awake for only two hours.” He said with a raised eyebrow.  
“Exactly and it’s already been stressful, so let’s just not.”  
“No. We are doing this now.” There was steel in his voice and I knew he wouldn’t budge.  
“My head is pounding, I’m tired and I just fought with my sister. Let us have a nice evening and tomorrow we can tear each other down again, alright?” I rubbed a hand over my face with a sigh.  
“Why are you so adamant about _not_ talking about this? Why won’t you let me help just _finding_ a solution?” _Because you would notice things. I didn’t get any governmental support. I didn’t have a social worker. You would notice and ask – why.  
_ “It’s just. Not now!” Tomorrow. Maybe, tomorrow I had something figured out.  
"Tell me the truth, Tony. I know you're keeping something from me." He didn’t give an inch in this. We were doing this now. Here. On the streets of New York with thunder rolling above us. Could it get any more dramatic? He would hate me.  
"I'm not _keeping_ it from you." At least I didn’t want to keep it from him. I lied to him, I hated myself for lying to him.  
"You're not telling me. You are adamantly refusing help. With the officials, with me. What is going on?" I wouldn’t get out of it, this time. Not when James was on a mission to find out. Might as well get it over with now. We loved each other, so it would be okay, right?  
"When you asked me about my parents I lied. Or well my mom really did die a while ago. But my father is very much alive. My siblings and I ran away and he's looking for us. I don't want the officials to notice us and take us back. It's why I'm using a fake name."  
"What? Alive? Why... Stop, why do you say siblings, as in plural, why don't you say sister." Oh fuck.  
"Well, I.. The kids, Adonia and Luca and Marcy, they are not really mine."  
"Tony!" I couldn’t stand the horrified gaze in his eyes, so I let my head fall back, facing the sky and the water.  
"I mean they are not my real children, I'm not their father, I'm their brother. We're all siblings, I'm the oldest. I actually was a slut in college, but it didn't have these kinds of repercussions."  
"That's not making any sense." He shook his head, brow deeply furrowed.  
"But it's the truth. I'm just pretending to be their father, so nobody tries taking them away from me. We ran from home. And we are hiding. That's why I can't take up help from a social worker. Our I.D's are fake. Eventually someone would notice." I rushed all of this out. I stared at James. Why didn't he say anything? Please say something. But he only blankly stared back at me, not really seeing me.   
"You lied to me." He finally concluded in a monotone voice  
"I'm sorry." It was the most heartfelt emotion since mom’s death.  
"About everything." Still his face disclosed nothing.  
"Not everything. Not the important things."  
"You didn't even tell me your name!" Now anger and hurt bled into his voice.  
"It's Stark. Anthony Edward Stark. And I'm sorry. It was wrong and I am so sorry. I don't know what to do. How can I make this up to you?" There was a pause. A breath. And then.  
"I honestly don't think you can." Shock ran through me.  
"No! Please, I'll do anything. I promise I will make this better. Please don't give up on us." Please. Please. Please. Give me another chance.  
"I don't know. Running away with a toddler. It's reckless and stupid. You lied about your name, your past, your present. There really is no future to us like this. It's like I don't even know you."  
"But you do know me. You know my mind, my heart. My favorite food and my favorite color and that I love cars. You know me and there is a future. Nothing has to change." It was good. This between us, was the first entirely good thing in years.  
"You lied to me. For months, Tony. _Months_. Didn't you trust me enough?" Rationally I got why he was mad, hurt. And I was sorry beyond words.  
"No! Of course I trust you."  
"Then why? Would you have ever told me? If it hadn't been for this. Would you?"  
"I would have. Eventually. I just needed time, but I would have." Even to me that sounded weak. Truth was I probably never would have had the courage for that. Not again. Not after the fight we had when I did want to tell him.  
"When?" James asked incredulously. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I had no answer for him.  
"No. You know what, Tony? I pictured myself with you, I thought this was it. This was my happily ever after. I thought I'd be stepdad to those kids, you know, someday maybe. And now all this was illusions."  
"No, it wasn't. I lied and I'm sorry. But this, us. It was always real." I pleaded, but he still just shook his head stepping back. Further away from me.  
I grabbed his hand and pictures flooded my mind of the first time when I did that. The very first time he kissed me. How at the briefest contact of my skin he stopped and turned to face me. Hope on his face. Now there was desperation instead.   
He pulled his hand away from mine and I let him.  
"Please. I love you." I said. And it hit me that it was the first time I ever said it aloud.   
"No, you don't. All this time you wouldn't say it. You wouldn't tell me that you loved me. Maybe that's because you never really did in the first place." I could feel the cold creep into my heart, as it slowly realized _that maybe this wasn't fixable_.  
"I do. Of course, I do. I want you. All of this. Us. Family. Our happy ever after. I love you." _That maybe this was over._  
"I can't do this. I can't deal with this. Please, don't come to work tomorrow. I don't think I can handle that." _That maybe I had lost him for good_. He didn't scream and somehow his quiet voice was worse. Definite. And resolute. Finality. He turned again.  
"Please. I can't lose you. I love you." I cried.  
He didn't look back.  
Pain locked my body into place as I went to my knees, watching him leave without a glance back. All strength had left me and all I could do was try to breathe through the agony raging inside me. Loss spread from my heart in shivering waves, knocking free the barely kept tears in my eyes.   
"I love you." I whispered before a sob tore through me and I raised my hands to my face, rocking back and forth with the force of my crying. "I love you." _And I lost you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! 
> 
> English is not my first language so please feel free to point out any mistakes!  
> (especially with this chapter it is 2.25 am where I'm at and i just finished this and I'm posting without having read through it again)
> 
> Thanx you all <3  
> See ya Leo
> 
> PS: The Lyrics are 'Thank you' by Dido


	4. Blood On My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel terrible  
> I'll be honest I wanted to have this out like months ago  
> And it's only about half as long as I wanted it to be, but I thought I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer (in case you stuck with my lazy ass until now - thank you <3 )  
> Life is my excuse. It has been shitty this year. Like real soap-opera level of drama and it's not gonna be over soon, so I probably won't have the next chapter up any faster - uahhh I really fucking suck at this.  
> So I'm sorry, but I can't make any promises to do better.  
> I know I robably won't. 
> 
> So thank you so so so so much for sticking with this and I hope you like it  
> Tell me how it goes. 
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!TW!!!!!!!!!!  
> Also TW: Like big time. Shit is getting serious. There is self-harm and suicidal ideation and degrading language. You know the whole onslaught of bad feelings, so better be safe than sorry!  
> Lov ya guys!  
> !!!!!!!!!!TW!!!!!!!!!!

When Sophia walked into the kitchen I didn't look up. I didn't really find the energy to answer when she greeted me good morning. I could tell she was still mad over yesterday. She had locked herself in her room and not come out again.  
"Are you giving me the silent treatment? Seriously? Real mature." She said when I wouldn't say anything.   
  
"I just don't feel like talking." The sentence rolled lazily off my tongue. Not much more than a slightly slurred mumble.  
  
"Are you alright?" She frowned.   
I nodded. I was just numb and mindless right now. Thoughts syrupy and slow. Words felt beyond me. I thought I was cold, but I couldn't tell for sure.   
  
"You’re not drunk again, are you?” I sent her a dirty look for that, even though I might have deserved it.  
  
“Then what happened?" She asked suspiciously. I didn't want to answer that and I couldn't bring my mouth to open anyway so I just shook my head, staring unseeingly into the cup of tea in my hands. It wasn't hot anymore, in fact it was rather cold. I had made it about two hours ago and not drunk even a sip. Just staring into it, clutching the mug for dear life.   
  
"Tony? What's wrong? Didn't James stay the night?" He won't ever stay the night again.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oka-ay. Why are you not dressed? You've got work in like an hour." Three out of three. Maybe she was a mind reader and I just didn't know yet. I'm outta job and I should worry about paying bills, but I just couldn't seem to care.  
  
"No."  
  
"No, what?" She shook her head, confused.  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"Don't what? Work?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Will you stop this? What is up with you? gosh." She growled turning away, clearly fed up with my one-syllable answers.  
   
"James dumped me and told me not to come to work anymore." I said and she gasped. Instantly her whole demeanor changed.  
  
"Wha'. Oh my god, Tony. What happened?" Her arms closed around me and the warmth was nice, but it didn't do much to stop the cold inside of me.  
  
"He found out." I didn't have to say more. It was awfully clear what I meant.   
  
"I'm so sorry." I didn't answer that.  
  
"Know what? I'm staying home today and we're gonna eat ice cream and watch shitty love films and paint our nails."  
  
"No skipping school."  
  
"Oh come on. Clearly it's not as important as you." I was glad she still cared, after what she had told me yesterday, but I wasn’t sure I could handle a whole day being pitied and wallowing in my guilt.  
  
"You paid 300$ for that preparation course for college. You are going and if I have to drag you there, I will."  
  
"You know maybe I've decided it's a waste of time and I don't like it anyway." It was not. She loved that course and maybe the young teacher, too. He sure was a handsome one. I forced a smile onto my lips.  
  
"I'm okay. I appreciate it and you know I love getting my nails painted, but I'm fine. Just go get ready, you're gonna be late."   
  
"If you say so." She paused. "Tony, maybe you should call Rhodey. You know this is his kind of thing. Don't get me wrong I'm all for a girly after-break-up-break-down-binge-watching-rom-coms, but you are keeping him at a way closer distance than you're keeping me, so maybe this is a great reason to throw caution to the wind and get your big brother home to you." She sent me a look and the barely concealed pity in her eyes was hardly bearable.  
  
"I'll think about it." I said. I knew I couldn't, but I didn't wanna fight. I thought she knew that too.  
  
"Okay. I'm, well I'll get going. Ms. Cass told me to get the kids tonight, so uhm don't worry about it." She just sighed.  
  
"Bye." Don't worry she said. As if it ever was that easy. I couldn't do anything but worry. About how I should start looking for a new job. About how I had to get my shit together. And there was still laundry that had to be done. And dishes waiting in the sink. All I wanted to do was sleep. I was tired. So damn tired. I tried to not think about what I was tired of, even though a part of me already knew. It was pretty much obvious at this point. And maybe I shouldn't be denying it, but it kept me sane. At least somewhat sane. Or maybe I wasn't anymore. For all I knew, I could be hallucinating this whole thing. No, that was ridiculous. I sighed and got up. I left the cup where it was and just sank into my bed. I couldn't lift myself again, to pull up the covers even though I was so cold. I felt so cold all the time, but I didn't when I was laying in James arms. I smiled with my eyes closed. His smile was pure light and I felt lighter just thinking of him. I knew I loved him. And something told me that he had loved me too. At some point. Probably not anymore. He probably hated me right now and he was right to. I hated myself. There was a voice sounding a bit like James and a bit like Rhodey telling me that was just the depression talking. But it was quiet. So quiet. And everything was so loud. I deserved his hate. I was glad he hated me. He could move on now. Find someone worthy of him. Someone worthy of love. Someone worth something. I knew that one wasn't me. I had known it from the start, I was just to hard-headed to admit it. Well there was no denying it now. It shouldn't hurt like this. I knew it wouldn't last. I should be happy knowing he'd be happy. Not hurt and angry and sad.  
Still, I deserved the pain. It was selfish being angry for leaving me. But then again I was a selfish person, so I was angry for abandoning me. Cause that's what it felt like. I would always stand by him, but he doesn't stand by me. I deserved it. Everybody leaving me, had to be my fault. Nobody but mum had ever really cared about me, so why was I still hoping for people to like me? Hadn't I finally learned my lesson? I had now. I was sure of it. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, so I didn’t. I didn’t want to see anyway. I hated the world right then. I knew I didn’t mean it, but at that moment it felt like there was no kindness or beauty to be found in this world. Of course it wasn’t true, but I still wanted it to be true. I wanted to hate the world for what it had done to me. But I had no right to. I deserved it.  
I didn’t know how long I laid there. I drifted in out of dreams and apathy and grief. I dreamt about Obadiah. I thought of Mum’s smile to maybe counteract, but the sound of worn leather against skin was drowning it out. I felt the cold and pain and shame and hate all over again. Next I saw the interior of a car. Mum breathing fast, but smiling with tears of joy in her eyes, while the rain was pressing against the windows. I saw two lights getting rapidly faster behind her dark waves of hair. I unfastened my seatbelt, wanting to get between her and disaster. But I never was fast enough. I heard myself scream the moment her head crashed against the window. The headlights blinding now and then darkness. I didn’t feel the pain. Police told me that my head had crashed right through the window. The doctors told me it was a miracle I didn’t break my neck. The police told me Mum had died right away. The doctors told me the baby surviving was a miracle, too. A nurse told me she believed in the both of us, when I held my little sister. That we both were miracles. We should have died, but we didn’t. Told me that we were fighters. Right down in our DNA something had told us to hang on, so we did. A bitter part in me whispered it would have been better if I hadn’t. After all if I had been faster, I would have been dead the second the truck hit us, but maybe she would have lived. If my DNA made me a fighter, a warrior, so why did I fight for my own life? Why not hers? Why did it fight for the wrong thing in the end? I could have saved her, the tenth of a second would have changed my entire family. I thought of the headlines ‘Tony Stark dead in car crash – mother and baby survived’ it would have been worth it. Always. They would have been happy. They would have mourned, but they would’ve gotten over it. It was supposed to be me, but I fucked it up. I always did.  
  
I couldn’t do anything right. I was failing every step of the way. Thinking I could do this, putting my heart into something, that was just asking for disaster. Sophia hated me for pushing this kind of life onto her. James hated me for lying. The twins would hate me for making James hate me, because obviously it was my fault he didn’t come around anymore. Adonia still loved me, but she was only two years old. She couldn’t hate yet. In a few years she would know better than to love me, too. I should have just told Dad about Sophia, he would have cared. After all he loved them. It was only me he did not want. I should have looked for our Italian family. The kids didn’t speak Italian, but maybe they would have cared. Cara and Antonio Carbonell. It was all I had on our Italian heritage. Two names, no photos, no address, no phone number. A married elderly couple somewhere in Italy, but I could have found them. Maybe I could have gotten us all smuggled onto a plane to Europe. Maybe they would have cared even though Mum never spoke to them again after the wedding. Mum chose Howard and us over them. She was the only one that ever really wanted me. And she wasn’t here anymore. She would never be here anymore. Even if she was she probably wouldn’t want me anymore. I didn’t want to imagine what she would say if she saw me like this.  
Fucked up  
Failure  
Worthless  
Whore  
Stupid  
Broken.  
Suddenly I wanted to know what had happened two nights ago. The big fight I couldn’t remember. Maybe something I had said had pushed James away from me, too far to ever get him back. It didn’t take me long to grab my laptop and hack into the security system at the shop. The angle was shitty, but the sound was awesome, I had made sure of that when I had installed it. I got to the first time I appeared on camera and pressed play. And it was worse than I expected. The pronounced slur to my words was embarrassing. I even looked pathetic. The things I said were harsh, so harsh. I never thought about him like that. James was a survivor of war not a murderer. I never would have said that if I had been sober. But James had been sober. He was angry, yes, but still clearheaded. The things he had said, he must’ve meant them at least somewhere deep down, he must’ve thought that. And he was right to.  
  
_Drunkard._ True, undeniably true.  
  
_You should be ashamed._ And I was. So ashamed for what I’d done and who I was.  
  
_How can you even look in the mirror?_ Newsflash, I didn’t. I had shattered a glass wall once because I couldn’t stand my reflection looking back at me.  
  
_Neglect? Abuse?_ Halfway true. I’d never hurt them, but I threw them into this mess. I didn’t protect them, that was neglect, right?  
  
_It's not like sex with you is a privilege._ And yeah. Well that he hit spot on. There were tears running down my face as soon as Video-James said it. I yearned for something alcoholic to quell the pain burning in my chest. Sex had never been a privilege with me. I did give it away like candy in college. I was selling it now. But I guess people didn’t have to pay for it, or to ask for it. Obadiah sure didn’t think so. With James it had felt different, but it obviously hadn’t felt different to him. _Cheap whore pretending to be a good father._ I slammed the computer shut after that. Couldn’t bear to hear more of it. Fleeing into the bathroom. Alcohol wouldn’t comfort me right now.

Cutting was seldom a punishment for me. I tried to avoid that. I never felt better afterwards. I was angry now and I would be sad and depressed later. I didn’t need to clear my head, the pain of losing James did that enough. But I was so mad at myself, it felt like I was bursting at the seams. So I didn’t do it often, but I did it now. I was crying and my tears were dripping into the angry deep slashes. Red pooling on the bathroom floor tiles beneath my arm. I still thought it was pretty. The only thing beautiful about me anymore was my pain. Red was my favourite colour after all. I cut and usually I would feel relief and clean up and move on. But there was no relief this time, so I kept going and when the blade got to slippery to handle, I just watched it bleed. I thought my fingers were going numb, it didn’t matter I was so cold anyway.

**\----Bucky----**

A part of me couldn’t grasp what that meant. I wanted to go back to him. Kiss him. Love him. Love. He told me he loved me yesterday. And he said it like he meant it. But if he was lying this much, was he lying to himself? Maybe he wanted to love me. But you don’t lie to the people you love. You tell them they look good when they’re wearing something hideous. You tell them ‘yes, of course that’s sugar’ while they’re pouring salt into their first coffee. But not like this. You can’t love someone, if you don’t even tell them who you really are. You don’t lie to them first thing in the morning. You want to spill everything on your mind, until you’re empty and bare. At least that’s what it felt like to me. The world was grey when I walked into the shop. I kinda felt like I did the first few weeks after losing my arm. And, yeah, wasn’t that right? I lost a part of myself last night. I felt tired. Bone-deep-no-coffee-can-help-it tired. I was angry, but my mind tortured me with pictures of his beautiful – beautiful – smile. Followed by his tear-streaked face. It haunted me. It wasn’t fair. He was the one lying. Hurting me. Keeping secrets. Never as invested into this relationship. So why was he the one crying? What right did he have? And why couldn’t I shake the guilt. Why did I still see his watery eyes, as if he stood right in front of me.  
I didn’t notice Steve coming into the bureau, so I startled when his hand fell onto my shoulder. I whirled around instinctively, brain kicking into self-defense-over-drive.  
“Whoa just me.” He said, hands raised in a placative non-threatening motion.  
I just grunted in response. Slowly sitting down again.  
  
“What’s up with the face, pal?” he asked.  
  
“Leave me alone, Steve.” I said turning away from him, to do the paperwork I was supposed to do or Natasha would have my hide.  
  
“Wow. That good of a day, huh? Bad night?”  
  
“I really don’t feel like a having a heart to heart right now. Leave.” It was asshole-ish. I knew it, but I didn’t want to be civil.  
  
“Like hell, I will, dumbass. Where’s Tony, maybe he can tell me what’s the matter with you.”  
  
“Not here.”  
  
“Well, I did see that. But shouldn’t he be? He’s usually around on Wednesdays.”  
  
“Not anymore.” I spit. He wouldn’t be here ever again.  
  
“Buck, you’re gonna talk to me or I will get Nat into this.”  
  
“You wouldn’t.”  
  
“Try me.” Steve crossed his arms.  
  
“You know she always-“  
  
“drags you to group meetings? Which I am a part of? Yes, yes I know that. And I know that you hate them, so I will use them as leverage for as long as I want.” I kinda wanted to punch knowing smirk off his face.  
  
“You’re fucking cruel, punk.”  
  
“And you’re not getting out of this. What happened?” I sighed.  
  
“Tony and I broke up.” I said, not looking at him. There was a stark silence following, before Steve cleared his throat.  
  
“You and Tony did what now?”  
  
“We broke up. Ended the relationship. Split up. Dumped each other. Whatever you wanna call it. We’re not an item anymore.” I looked at him, daring him to say something. But there he stood my best friend and golden boy Steve Rogers, jaw dropped and a confused frown on his face. Und any other circumstances I would’ve laughed so hard at that. For now I just waited until he got himself together again.  
  
“Why the hell would you do that?” Yeah why. I couldn’t really tell CPS about him could I?  
  
“Reasons.”  
  
“Talk. James.” He demanded in a stern and serious voice. And I didn’t fucking care anymore. It was Tony’s own fault. I got up, facing him.

  
“We had a talk. He lied to me. Like big time. The kids are not actually his kids, but his siblings. Siblings he kidnapped when he ran away from his home, where his parents are fucking alive.” I watched his face closely while I said that, but his expression didn’t change a bit. Only the disapproving frown remaining and it hit me.  
“But you already knew that, didn’t you.” I whispered, taking a step back.  
  
“Buck.”  
  
“Did you know?” There was not an ounce of surprise on his face.  
  
“I didn’t know who he was.” Now that sounded vague.  
  
“Don’t bullshit me. Did you know?”  
  
“Yes.” Betrayal. Hurt. Anger. I felt it all at once. And now there was hardly anything restraining me from actually punching him in his goddamn pretty face.  
  
“You’re my best friend, Steve. How could you keep that from me?”  
  
“I knew for two days, Bucky. How could you just leave him like that?”  
  
“Two days is enough time to call me and tell me that my fucking boyfriend is a god-damned imposter!” He leveled me with a deadpan look.  
  
“Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?”  
  
“No, it’s not! He lied to me for months! Just for the hell of it. For all I know our relationship was just a game to him.”  
  
“Are you saying, you can’t see the danger he’s in? He’s a Stark, James, his status as heir is dangerous in itself. A man like Stane could easily hire an assassin if word got out where they are.” Danger? What danger?  
  
“Stark what? And who is Stane?”  
  
“Are you serious right now? You said you talked!”  
  
“We did.”  
  
“Well it doesn’t look like it. Stark is Tony’s last name. It’s Anthony Edward Stark. He took his mothers birthname when they went into hiding. About what the hell did you talk, if you haven’t even covered the name?”  
  
“He told me his last name, I think. I just didn’t remember it. It really didn’t seem that important.”  
  
“Not important? The Starks are one of the most powerful and rich families in America. Their names were plastered all over the media when they went missing. Your arm is Stark Industries tech for fuck’s sake. How can you just ignore these things?” And why was he so accusing. Like I did wrong not him. He was my best friend, he was supposed to be on my side here.  
  
“I was angry.” He sent me an incredulous look at that.  
  
“What?!” It was like he couldn’t wrap his head around what I’d just said.  
  
“I still am! Steve, he lied to me from the start. He could have told me, you know that, and if he had trusted me this wouldn’t have happened, but he didn’t. He didn’t tell me a single true thing about himself, while he easily could have trusted me. He could have told me anything, whatever it was we would have worked it out. But he did not.”  
  
“Of course, he didn’t. A rape victim doesn’t just randomly tell everyone he’s hiding out of fear for his life. That’s not something you can just blurt out over dinner!” I felt my whole world come to a halt.  
  
“Say that again.” I told him, I wanted to have misheard him. That could simply not be what he said.  
  
“That topic doesn’t really come up in all-day conversation.” But that was not what I meant.  
  
“Not that part.” I said with a blank face and his eyes went wide.  
  
“You’re joking. What did you even talk _about_?”  
  
“Not the important things obviously. Now repeat what you said.” I growled impatiently.  
  
“He didn’t tell you.” Steve was solemn, and it felt wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.  
  
“No he fucking did not. Now will you fucking say it!”  
  
“Tony has been physically and sexually abused for years by his godfather. He stayed silent because Stane threatened his siblings. Once that bastard touched Sophia anyway, Tony took all of them and ran away.” Abused. The word was spinning inside my head. Around and around.  
  
“No.” I shook my head, not willing to believe. Not able to imagine the person I loved most being hurt like that.

He flinched whenever I rose my voice.  
There were scars on his back.  
I had thought about it. But even if his father had hurt him he was dead now and Tony clearly was safe and would open up when he felt like it. But he wasn’t safe, now was he?

 _Actually I wanted to talk to you about something._ He had wanted to tell me. He was scared and unsure, and still he tried to tell me. And I had shut him down.

“He loves you and he needs your support. He never told anyone, and no one ever told him it was not his fault. He needs you, but you broke up with him instead.” The full implication of what I’d done hit me. And it took the breath out of me.  
  
“Fuck! Is he okay?”  
  
“Well, you dumped him, so I’ll take a wild guess and say no?” It was rare Steve got sarcastic. It usually was a good indicator for how bad I had fucked up. So I got up and ran for my bike.

I rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. Tony could be out, but something told me he wasn’t. I rang again and again didn’t get an answer. A shiver ran through me, imagining the worst. I pounded on the door. Praying to every god that he was okay.  
And finally after what felt like years, the door opened. Tony looked like death. He was pale, so pale and shivering. Dried tear tracks adorning his cheeks, completed with bloodshot eyes. When he looked at me those beautiful browns were suspiciously shiny. As if only seeing my face made him cry again. Somehow that was worse than the tears I’d seen last night.  
  
“What do you want?” He asked and maybe it should have come out demanding, but his voice was raw and shaky. Everything inside me hurt seeing this wonderful, bright, charming and vivacious man, this broken. Because of me. Because I had been cruel when he needed kindness so much.  
  
“To talk. I just want to talk, Tony. Can I come in?”  
  
“Why would you want to talk? You hate me, remember?” He said it quietly, leaning heavily against the door, like he was to weak to hold himself up.  
  
“I could never hate you. I was angry, but I could never hate you.” I tried to catch his gaze, but he just watched the floor. That’s when I noticed something red on the doorframe. I frowned than scanned Tony again more thoroughly and found more red on his hands. Every single alarm in my head went haywire.  
  
“Tony?” I reached forward. Barely catching him when suddenly he dropped to the floor. “Tony!”  
  
“Yu’ shoudn’ve com’ here.” He slurred, just before passing out. And I immediately panicked.  
  
Hitting speed dial, I frantically looked for any kind of wounds on his body, coming up with nothing.  
  
“Steve!”  
  
“What happened?” Steve asked immediately.  
  
“Tony, he’s… There” I took a deep breath, needing to find the calm of a trained soldier. “Tony just collapsed. He’s unconscious. There’s blood on his hands but I can’t find a wound.” My voice was unsteady, but he didn’t comment on that.  
  
“Is it fresh?”  
  
“Yes. Thirty minutes max.” I was never more glad for my time overseas than I was now.  
  
“Dammit, Tony. Buck, he’s wearing a Stark Industries skin graft. Like the ones you were offered.” Steve told me. A skin graft? Why would Tony be wearing that?  
  
“What, why? What does that matter?”  
  
“If you couldn’t find a wound it’s most likely beneath it. You need to turn it off before removing it. It’s stretchy material, but when it’s on it sticks to the skin.” Well, okay, that was reasonable.  
  
“Where is it?” And how do you know about it, when I don’t? _No, don’t think about that now!  
_  
“Left forearm. Draw a cross on the inside of his elbow, it will turn black and you can pull it off.” I did so and ignored the way my hands were shaking slightly.  
  
“Fuck!” I cursed when I saw what was hidden beneath. I knew what that meant.  
  
“What is it, Soldier?” I appreciated the calm commanding tone, Steve was using on me.  
  
“A lot more blood. I can’t see any wounds yet.” I said while looking for something. I got up into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, ignoring the blood on the floor and the razor blade dropped inside it. Like I had startled him and he lost his grip on it.  
Trying to clear away the blood all over his pale arm gently was hard because the wounds were still bleeding. I pressed the towel against them, trying to slow the bloodflow.  
  
“Bucky?”  
  
“Six cut wounds. Self-inflicted. Deep. They need stitches. I’m taking him to the hospital.” I decided.  
  
“No. You can’t.”  
  
“The hell I can’t.” Keeping him upright on my bike would be complicated but doable.  
  
“No, you will get a first aid kit, put in these stitches yourself and keep him stable. In a hospital he’ll be an easy target. If Stane finds out he’s on suicide watch, he’s dead before he can wake up. That’s such an easy way to get rid of somebody.” Steve reasoned. That was a little overboard, wasn’t it? He needed medical attention – sooner rather than later.  
  
“Isn’t that a little paranoid?” I asked while grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to appreciate paranoid considering Tony’s life is at risk.” And then I was thinking about Tony dying in a hospital bed.  
  
“I’m trying to keep my calm here, okay? And that’s not fucking easy, so shut the fuck up!” I shouted while fumbling with the needle and the disinfectant.  
  
“Sorry. You’re doing good, Buck, okay? I’ll call Bruce. Just get his wounds cleaned up, keep track of his pulse and get him into bed and warm. Don’t let the kids see him like this.” Fear ran through me at the thought of being alone with Tony bleeding to death in my arms.  
  
“Don’t.. Please, Steve, will you..” My voice broke and I couldn’t speak anymore, but it didn’t matter, because Steve still knew. He always did.  
  
“I won’t, alright? I’m here. Just focus on Tony, I’m still with you. I won’t hang up.” He reassured, and I let out a shaky breath.  
  
“Thank you.” It felt like the war all over again. Kneeling on a battlefield, stitching up a fallen comrade while danger was looming over our heads. Because there was no doubt Tony was drawn into a war, fighting for his life and he just had lost an important battle. And it was my fault, my fault for tearing down his defenses. Zoning out of my surroundings I worked in silence. I released the breath, I didn’t know I was holding, when I finished up the last of the six cuts. It was messy. It would scar pretty badly – a metal prosthesis was not made for surgery by any means – but it stopped the bleeding, so I counted that as a win.  
  
“I’m done.” I said, when I remembered that Steve was still on the phone waiting for me to get it together.   
  
“Good, that’s good. Are you okay for now?  Bruce and I will be with you soon. Can you manage right now?”  
  
“Get Sam here, too.” I said in a rough voice.  
  
“I’ll do that. Just wash your hands, change his clothes, get him to bed. You can do this.”  
  
“I can do this.” I mumbled.  
  
“Yeah, you can. I’ll be there soon.”  
  
“Bye.” I said, before hanging up.  
I took a deep breath and gathered Tony into my arms. Carrying him to the bedroom had always been fun before. It was terrifying now. Cradling his limp body against my chest did nothing to ease the tension in my chest. Laying him on the soft sheets, his head rolling to the side, it scared the hell out of me. What if I hadn’t come by right this moment? What if I had taken an hour longer? Would I be holding a corpse by now? How long had this been going on? Did he even want to see me when he woke up? I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head. I had a job to do right now. I stood and got into the bathroom again. Mechanically I let water run down my hands, clearing away the red stains.  
I filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a washcloth. I cleaned Tony’s arms of the remaining blood and bandaged his arm. I carefully removed his blood-soaked sweater and changed him into a fresh loose Shirt and jogging pants, before pulling up the covers and heading towards the bathroom again. I felt numb somehow. I couldn’t breathe and still I wanted to scream. I tried not to think about what I was doing, when I knelt to wipe away what seemed like a sea of blood, throwing the razor blade into the trash can, before stepping into the small corridor to do the same. I checked Tony’s pulse, weak but steady, and grabbed an old sweatshirt of mine that Tony had stolen and kept in his closet. I swapped it for my also blood-stained shirt and put everything with blood on into the washing machine, so the kids wouldn’t see it. Then I pulled out some pain killers, juice and saltines, putting them on the bedside table. Finally, I sat down on the bed and took Tony’s wrist into my hand, counting his heartbeat. Now that there was no artificial smoothness I could feel the numerous rough scars scattered all over his forearm.  
  
It was sickening to think that I hadn’t noticed. I was his boyfriend. And I hadn’t noticed he was hurting so bad he was self-harming. He looked exhausted. Like, bone deep tired. There were shadows beneath his eyes, more prominent because of his pale skin. His hair wasn’t as shiny and soft, he also was somewhat thinner. Barely noticeable but there. He looked peaceful lying there. He probably needed the rest. He was breathing, and his heart was beating, the steady _thump-thump-thump_ against my fingers was comforting. It was barely 11 am and I was already pretty much done for the day. How could I have missed this? Not only the self-harm, but everything? How could I be so blind not to know. _Because he didn’t want you to_ , a tiny voice in my head whispered. I had known there was something dark in his past. He was jumpy sometimes and he flinched whenever I got loud and he never spoke about his father. But I hadn’t pressed because obviously that was something he wasn’t ready to share with me yet. I thought it was something, he wanted to just leave behind. If it had been a somewhat distant father, a bad relationship with his parents, he could have let that one go. But what Steve had told me. That kind of trauma you couldn’t just leave in a corner and move on, it followed you everywhere you went. It took years of therapy to work through it. It seemed like it hadn’t even been a year away from his tormentor.  
There was still red beneath my fingernails. It would take a few days for it to finally wash away. But the feeling of having failed wouldn’t leave any time soon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language.  
> I greatly appreciate any mistakes pointed out to me!
> 
> Thanks for reading this!
> 
> I love comments and kudos, let me know what you think, criticism as well as new ideas
> 
> See ya, Leo


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